IDOLATRY: 


A  ROMANCE. 


BY 


JULIAN    HAWTHOBNE. 


BOSTON: 
JAMES    K.    OSGOOD    AND    COMPANY 

LATE  TICKNOR  &  FIELDS,  AND  FIELDS,  OSGOOD,  &  Co. 

1874. 


^ 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1874, 

BY    JAMES    R.    OSGOOD    &    CO., 
iu  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS:  WELCH,  BIGELOW,  &  Co., 
CAMBRIDGE. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

DEDICATION    ,  5 


I.    THE  ENCHANTED  KING 7 

II.    OUT  OF  EGYPT 17 

III.  A  MAY  MORNING 32 

IV.  A  BRAHMAN 42 

V.    A  NEW  MAN  WITH  AN  OLD  FACE  .        .  51 

VI.    THE  VAGARIES  OF  HELWYSE      ....  70 

VII.    A  QUARREL 82 

VIII.    A  COLLISION  IMMINENT 87 

IX.    THE  VOICE  OF  DARKNESS       ....  101 
X.    HELWYSE  RESISTS  THE  DEVIL     .        .        .        .110 

XI.    A  DEAD  WEIGHT 113 

XII.    MORE  VAGARIES 120 

XIII.  THROUGH  A  GLASS 133 

XIV.  THE  TOWER  OF  BABEL 147 

XV.    CHARON'S  FERRY 153 

XVI.    LEGEND  AND  CHRONICLE 166 

XVII.    FACE  TO  FACE 174 

XVIII.    THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CROCODILE     .        .        .  184 

XIX.    BEFORE  SUNDOWN 204 

M124471 


IV  CONTENTS. 

XX.  BETWEEN  WAKING  AND  SLEEPING   .        .        .  210 

XXI.  WE   PICK   UP   ANOTHER   THREAD     .  .  .  221 

XXII.  HEART  AND  HEAD 236 

XXIII.  BALDER  TELLS  AN  UNTRUTH        .        .  '      .  246 

XXIY.  UNCLE  HIERO  AT  LAST 256 

XXV.  THE  HAPPINESS  OP  MAN     ....  266 

XXVI.  Music  AND  MADNESS 277 

XXVII.  PEACE  AND  GOOD- WILL        .        .        .        .  289 

XXVIII.  BETROTHAL 299 

XXIX.  A  CHAMBER  OF  THE  HEART        .        .        .  310 

XXX.  DANDELIONS 321 

XXXI.  MARRIED 332 

XXXII.  SHUT  IN 346 

XXXIII.  THE  BLACK  CLOUD  .       .  355 


DEDICATION. 


To   ROBERT    CARTER,    ESQ. 

NOT  the  intrinsic  merits  of  this  story  embolden  me  to 
inscribe  it  to  you,  my  dear  friend ;  but  the  fact  that 
you,  more  than  any  other  man,  are  responsible  for  its 
writing.  Your  advice  and  encouragement  first  led  me  to 
book-making  ;  so  it  is  only  fair  that  you  should  partake 
of  whatever  obloquy  (or  honor)  the  practice  may  bring 
upon  me. 

The  ensuing  pages  may  incline  you  to  suspect  their 
author  of  a  repugnance  to  unvarnished  truth ;  but,  —  with 
out  prejudice  to  Othello,  —  since  varnish  brings  out  in 
wood  veins  of  beauty  invisible  before  the  application,  why 
not  also  in  the  sober  facts  of  life1?  When  the  transparent 
artifice  has  been  penetrated,  the  familiar  substance  under 
neath  will  be  greeted  none  the  less  kindly ;  nay,  the 
observer  will  perhaps  regard  the  disguise  as  an  oblique 
compliment  to  his  powers  of  insight,  and  his  attention 
may  thus  be  better  secured  than  had  the  subject  worn 
its  every-day  dress.  Seriously,  the  most  matter-of-fact  life 
has  moods  when  the  light  of  romance  seems  to  gild  its 
earthen  chimney-pots  into  fairy  minarets;  and,  were  the 
story-teller  but  sure  of  laying  his  hands  upon  the  true 
gold,  perhaps  the  more  his  story  had  of  it,  the  better. 

Here,  however,  comes  in  the  grand  difficulty ;    fact  nor 


6  DEDICATION. 

fancy  is  often  reproduced  in  true  colors ;  and  while  at 
tempting  justly  to  combine  life's  elements,  the  writer  has 
to  beware  that  they  be  not  mere  cheap  imitations  thereof. 
Not  seldom  does  it  happen  that  what  he  proffers  as 
genuine  arcana  of  imagination  and  philosophy  affects  the 
reader  as  a  dose  of  Hieroglyphics  and  Balderdash.  Nev 
ertheless,  the  first  duty  of  the  fiction-monger  —  no  less 
than  of  the  photographic  artist  doomed  to  produce  suc 
cessful  portraits  of  children- in-arms  —  is,  to  be  amusing ;  to 
shrink  at  no  shifts  which  shall  beguile  the  patient  into 
procrastinating  escape  until  the  moment  be  gone  by.  The 
gentle  reader  will  not  too  sternly  set  his  face  against 
such  artifices,  but,  so  they  go  not  the  length  of  fantasti 
cally  presenting  phenomena  inexplicable  upon  any  common- 
sense  hypothesis,  he  will  rather  lend  himself  to  his  own 
beguilement.  The  performance  once  over,  let  him,  if  so 
inclined,  strip  the  feathers  from  the  flights  of  imagination, 
and  wash  the  color  from  the  incidents  ;  if  aught  save  the 
driest  and  most  ordinary  matters  of  fact  reward  his  re 
searches,  then  let  him  be  offended  ! 

De  te  fabula  does  not  apply  here,  my  dear  friend ;  for 
you  will  show  me  more  indulgence  than  I  have  skill  to 
demand.  And  should  you  find  matter  of  interest  in  this 
book,  yours,  rather  than  the  author's,  will  be  the  merit. 
As  the  beauty  of  nature  is  from  the  eye  that  looks  upon 
her,  so  would  the  story  be  dull  and  barren,  save  for  the 
life  and  color  of  the  reader's  sympathy. 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

JULIAN  HAWTHORNE. 


IDOLATRY 


THE  ENCHANTED   RING. 

ONE  of  the  most  imposing  buildings  in  Boston 
twenty  years  ago  was  a  granite  hotel,  whose 
western  windows  looked  upon  a  graveyard.  Passing 
up  a  flight  of  steps,  and  "beneath  a  portico  of  digni 
fied  granite  columns,  and  so  through  an  embarrassing- 
pair  of  swinging -doors  to  the  roomy  vestibule, —  you 
would  there  pause  a  moment  to  spit  upon  the  black- 
and-white  tessellated  pavement.  Having  thus  asserted 
your  title  to  Puritan  ancestry,  and  to  the  best  accom 
modations  the  house  afforded,  you  would  approach  the 
desk  and  write  your  name  in  the  hotel  register.  This 
done,  you  would  be  apt  to  run  your  eye  over  the, last 
dozen  arrivals,  on  the  chance  of  lighting  upon  the 
autograph  of  some  acquaintance,  to  be  shunned  or 
sought  according  to  circumstances. 

Let  us  suppose,  for  the  story's  sake,  that  such  was 
the  gentle  reader's  behavior  on  a  certain  night  during 


8  IDOLATRY. 

the  latter  part  of  May,  in  the  year  eighteen  hundred 
and  fifty- three.  If  now  he  will  turn  to  the  ninety- 
ninth  page  of  the  register  above  mentioned,  he  will 
remark  that  the  last  name  thereon  written  is,  "  Doctor 
Hiero  Glyphic.  Eoom  27."  The  natural  inference  is 
that,  unless  so  odd  a  name  be  an  assumed  one,  Doc 
tor  Glyphic  occupies  that  room.  Passing  on  to  page 
one  hundred,  he  will  find  the  first  entry  reads  as  fol 
lows  :  "  Balder  Helwyse,  Cosmopolis.  Room  29." 

In  no  trifling  mood  do  we  call  attention  to  these 
two  names,  and,  above  all,  to  their  relative  position 
in  the  book.  Had  they  both  appeared  upon  the  same 
page,  this  romance  might  never  have  been  written. 
On  such  seemingly  frail  pegs  hang  consequences  the 
most  weighty.  Because  Doctor  Glyphic  preferred  the 
humble  foot  of  the  ninety-ninth  page  to  the  trouble 
of  turning  to  a  leading  position  on  the  one  hundredth  ; 
because  Mr.  Helwyse,  having  begun  the  one  hundredth 
page,  was  too  incurious  to  find  out  who  was  his  next- 
door  neighbor  on  the  ninety-ninth,  ensued  unparalleled 
adventures,  and  this  account  of  them. 

Our  present  purpose,  by  the  reader's  leave,  and  in 
his  company,  is  to  violate  Doctor  Hiero  Glyphic's  re 
tirement,  as  he  lies  asleep  in  bed.  NOT  shall  we  stop 
at  his  bedside ;  we  mean  to  penetrate  deep  into  the 
darksome  caves  of  his  memory,  and  to  drag  forth 
thence  sundry  odd-looking  secrets,  which  shall  blink 


THE   ENCHANTED  RING.  9 

and  look  strangely  in  the  light  of  discovery ;  —  little 
thought  their  keeper  that  our  eyes  should  ever  behold 
them!  Yet  will  he  not  resent  our  intrusion;  it  is 
twenty  years  ago,  —  and  he  lies  asleep. 

Two  o'clock  sounds  from  the  neighboring  steeple  of 
the  Old  South  Church,  as  we  noiselessly  enter  the 
chamber,  —  noiselessly,  for  the  hush  of  the  past  is 
about  us.  We  scarcely  distinguish  anything  at  first ; 
the  moon  has  set  on  the  other  side  of  the  hotel,  and 
perhaps,  too,  some  of  the  dimness  of  those  twenty 
intervening  years  affects  our  eyesight.  By  degrees, 
however,  objects  begin  to  define  themselves;  the  bed 
shows  doubtfully  white,  and  that  dark  blot  upon  the 
pillow  must  be  the  face  of  our  sleeping  man.  It  is 
turned  towards  the  window ;  the  mouth  is  open ;  prob 
ably  the  good  Doctor  is  snoring,  albeit,  across  this 
distance  of  time,  the  sound  fails  to  reach  us. 

The  room  is  as  bare,  square,  and  characterless  as 
other  hotel  rooms;  nevertheless,  its  occupant  may 
have  left  a  hint  or  two  of  himself  about,  which  would 
be  of  use  to  us.  There  are  no  trunks  or  other  lug 
gage  ;  evidently  he  will  be  on  his  way  again  to-mor 
row.  The  window  is  shut,  although  the  night  is  warm 
and  clear.  The  door  is  carefully  locked.  The  Doc 
tor's  garments,  which  appear  to  be  of  rather  a  jaunty 
and  knowing  cut,  are  lying  disorderly  about,  on  chair, 
table,  or  floor.  He  carries  no  watch ;  but  under  his 
i* 


10  IDOLATRY. 

pillow  we  see  protruding  the  corner  of  a  great  leathern 
pocket-book,  which  might  contain  a  fortune  in  bank 
notes. 

A  couple  of  chairs  are  drawn  up  to  the  bedside, 
upon  one  of  which  stands  a  blown-out  candle ;  the 
other  supports  an  oblong,  coffin-shaped  box,  narrower 
at  one  end  than  at  the  other,  and  painted  black.  Too 
small  for  a  coffin,  however ;  no  human  corpse,  at  least, 
is  contained  in  it.  But  the  frame  that  lies  so  quiet  and 
motionless  here,  thrills,  when  awaked  to  life,  with  a 
soul  only  less  marvellous  than  man's.  In  short,  the 
coffin  is  a  violin-case,  and  the  mysterious  frame  the 
violin.  The  Doctor  must  have  been  fiddling  overnight. 

O  O         ) 

after  getting  into  bed ;  to  the  dissatisfaction,  perhaps, 
of  his  neighbor  on  the  other  side  of  the  partition. 

Little  else  in  the  room  is  worthy  notice,  unless  it  be 
the  pocket-comb  which  has  escaped  from  the  Doctor's 
waistcoat,  and  the  shaving  materials  (also  pocketable) 
upon  the  wash-stand.  Apparently  our  friend  does  not 
stand  upon  much  toilet  ceremony.  The  room  has  noth 
ing  more  of  significance  to  say  to  us  ;  so  now  we  come 
to  the  room's  occupant.  Our  eyes  have  got  enough  ac 
customed  to  the  imperfect  light  to  discern  what  manner 
of  man  he  may  be. 

Barely  middle-aged ;  or,  at  a  second  glance,  he  might 
be  fifteen  to  twenty-five  years  older.  His  face  retains 
the  form  of  youth,  yet  wears  a  subtile  shadow  which 


THE  ENCHANTED   RING.  11 

we  feel  might  be  consistent  even  with  extreme  old 
age.  The  forehead  is  wide  and  low,  supported  by 
regular  eyebrows ;  the  face  beneath  long  and  narrow, 
of  a  dark  and  dry  complexion.  In  sleep,  open-mouthed, 
the  expression  is  rather  inane ;  though  we  can  readily 
imagine  the  waking  face  to  be  not  devoid  of  a  certain 
intensity  and  comeliness  of  aspect,  marred,  however,  by 
an  air  of  guarded  anxiety  which  is  apparent  even  now. 

"We  prattle  of  the  dead  past,  and  use  to  fancy  that 
peace  must  dwell  there,  if  nothing  else.  Only  in  the 
past,  say  we,  is  security  from  jostle,  danger,  and  disturb 
ance  ;  who  would  live  at  his  ease  must  number  his 
days  backwards ;  no  charm  so  potent  as  the  years,  if 
read  from  right  to  left.  Living  in  the  past,  prophecy 
and  memory  are  at  one ;  care  for  the  future  can  harass 
no  man.  Throw  overboard  that  Jonah,  Time,  and  the 
winds  of  fortune  shall  cease  to  buffet  us.  And  more 
to  the  same  effect. 

And  yet  it  is  not  so.  The  past,  if  more  real  than 
the  future,  is  no  less  so  than  the  present ;  the  pain  of 
a  broken  heart  or  head  is  never  annihilated,  but  be 
comes  part  and  parcel  of  eternity.  This  uneasy  snorer 
here,  for  instance :  his  earthly  troubles  have  been  over 
years  ago,  yet,  as  our  fancy  sees  him,  he  is  none  the 
calmer  or  the  happier  for  that.  Observe  him,  how  he 
mumbles  inarticulately,  and  makes  strengthless  clutch- 
ings  at  the  blanket  with  his  long,  slender  fingers. 


12  IDOLATRY. 

But  we  delay  too  long  over  the  external  man,  seeing 
that  our  avowed  business  is  with  the  internal.  A 
sleeping  man  is  truly  a  helpless  creature.  They  say 
that,  if  you  take  his  hand  in  yours  and  ask  him  ques 
tions,  he  has  no  other  choice  than  to  answer  —  or  to 
awake.  The  Doctor  —  as  we  know  by  virtue  of  the 
prophetic  advantages  just  remarked  upon  —  will  stay 
asleep  for  some  hours  yet.  Or,  if  you  are  clairvoyant, 
you  have  but  to  fall  in  a  trance,  and  lay  a  hand  on  his 
forehead,  and  you  may  read  off  his  thoughts,  —  pro 
vided  he  does  his  thinking  in  his  head.  But  the 
world  is  growing  too  wise,  nowadays,  to  put  faith  in 
old  woman's  nonsense  like  this.  Again,  there  is  —  or 
used  to  be  —  an  odd  theory  that  all  matter  is  a  sort  of 
photographic  plate,  whereon  is  registered,  had  we  but 
eyes  to  read  it,  the  complete  history  of  itself.  What 
an  invaluable  pair  of  eyes  were  that !  In  vain,  ar 
raigned  before  them,  would  the  criminal  deny  his  guilt, 
the1  lover  the  soft  impeachment.  The  whole  scene 
would  stand  forth,  photographed  in  fatal  minuteness 
and  indelibility  upon  face,  hands,  coat-sleeve,  shirt- 
bosom.  Mankind  would  be  its  own  book  of  life, 
written  in  the  primal  hieroglyphic  character,  —  the 
language  understood  by  all.  Vocal  conversation  would 
become  obsolete,  unless  among  a  few  superior  persons 
able  to  discuss  abstract  ideas. 

We  speak  of  these  things  only  to  smile  at  them ;  far 


THE  ENCHANTED  RING.  13 

be  it  from  us  to  insult  the  reader's  understanding  by 
asking  him  to  regard  them  seriously.  But  story-tellers 
labor  under  one  disadvantage  which  is  peculiar  to  their 
profession,  —  the  necessity  of  omniscience.  This  tends 
to  make  them  too  arbitrary,  leads  them  to  disregard 
the  modesty  of  nature  and  the  harmonies  of  reason  in 
their  methods.  They  will  pretend  to  know  things 
which  they  never  could  have  seen  or  heard  of,  and  for 
the  truth  of  which  they  bring  forward  no  evidence ; 
thus  forcing  the  reader  to  reject,  as  lacking  proper  con 
firmation,  what  he  would  else,  from  its  inherent  grace 
or  sprightliness,  be  happy  to  accept. 

That  we  shall  be  free  from  this  reproach  is  rather 
our  good  fortune  than  our  merit.  It  is  by  favor  of  our 
stars,  not  by  virtue  of  our  own,  that  we  turn  not  aside 
from  the  plain  path  of  truth  to  the  by-ways  of  super- 
naturalism  and  improbability.  Yet  we  refrain  with 
difficulty  from  a  breath  of  self-praise ;  there  is  a  proud 
and  solid  satisfaction  in  holding  an  unassailable  posi 
tion  ;  could  we  but  catch  the  world's  eye,  we  would 
meet  it  calmly !  . 

Let  us  hasten  to  introduce  our  talisman.  You  may 
see  it  at  this  very  moment,  encircling  the  third  finger 
of  Doctor  Glyphic's  left  hand;  in  fact,  it  is  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  quaint  diamond  ring.  The  stone, 
though  not  surprisingly  large,  is  surpassingly  pure 
and  brilliant ;  as  its  keen,  delicate  ray  sparkles  on  the 


14  IDOLATRY. 

eye,  one  marvels  whence,  in  the  dead  of  night,  it  got 
together  so  much  celestial  fire.  Observe  the  setting; 
the  design  is  unique.  Two  fairy  serpents  —  one 
golden,  the  other  fashioned  from  black  meteoric  iron 
—  are  intertwined  along  their  entire  length,  forming 
the  hoop  of  the  ring.  Their  heads  approach  the  dia 
mond  from  opposite  sides,  and  each  makes  a  mighty 
bite  at  it  with  his  tiny  jaws,  studded  with  sharp  little 
teeth.  Thus  their  contest  holds  the  stone  firmly  in 
place.  The  whole  forms  a  pretty  symbol  of  the  hu 
man  soul,  battled  for  by  the  good  and  the  evil  princi 
ples.  But  the  diamond  seems,  in  its  entirety,  to  be  an 
awkward  mouthful  for  either.  The  snakes  are  wrought 
with  marvellous  dexterity  and  finish ;  each  separate 
scale  is  distinguishable  upon  their  glistening  bodies, 
the  wrinkling  of  the  skin  in  the  coils,  the  sparkling- 
points  of  eyes,  and  the  minute  nostrils.  Such  works 
of  art  are  not  made  nowadays ;  the  ring  is  an  antique, 

—  a  relic  of  an  age  when  skill  was  out  of  all  proportion 
to  liberty,  —  a  very  distant  time  indeed.     To  deserve 
such  a  setting,  the  stone  must  have  exceptional  qual 
ities.     Let  us  take  a  closer  look  at  it. 

Fortunately,  its  own  lustre  makes  it  visible  in  every 
part ;  the  minuteness  of  our  scrutiny  need  be  limited 
only  by  our  power  of  eye.  It  is  cut  with  many  facets, 

—  twenty-seven,  if  you  choose  to  count  them ;  perhaps 
(though  we  little  credit  such  fantasies)  some  mystic 


THE  ENCHANTED   RING.  15 

significance  may  be  intended  in  this  number.  Con 
centrating  now  our  attention  upon  any  single  facet^we 
see  —  either  inscribed  upon  its  surface,  or  showing 
through  from  the  interior  of  the  stone  —  a  sort  of 
monogram,  or  intricately  designed  character,  not  unlike 
the  mysterious  Chinese  letters  on  tea-chests.  Every 
facet  has  a  similar  figure,  though  no  two  are  identical. 
But  the  central,  the  twenty-seventh  facet,  which  is 
larger  than  the  others,  has  an  important  peculiarity. 
Looking  upon  it,  we  find  therein,  concentrated  and 
commingled,  the  other  twenty-six  characters;  which, 
separately  unintelligible,  form,  when  thus  united,  a 
simple  and  consistent  narrative,  equivalent  in  extent 
to  many  hundred  printed  pages,  and  having  for  subject 
nothing  less  than  the  complete  history  of  the  ring 
itself. 

Some  small  portion  of  this  narrative  —  that,  namely, 
which  relates  more  particularly  to  the  present  wearer 
of  the  ring  —  we  will  glance  at;  the  rest  must  be 
silence,  although,  going  back  as  it  does  to  the  earliest 
records  of  the  human  race,  many  an  interesting  page 
must  be  skipped  perforce. 

The  advantages  to  a  historian  of  a  medium  such  as 
this  are  too  patent  to  need  pointing  out.  Pretension 
and  conjecture  will  be  avoided,  because  unnecessary. 
The  most  trifling  thought  or  deed  of  any  person  con 
nected  with  the  history  of  the  ring  is  laid  open  to 


16  IDOLATRY. 

direct  inspection.  Were  there  more  such  talismans  as 
this,  the  profession  of  authorship  would  become  no  less 
easy  than  delightful,  and  criticism  would  sting  itself  to 
death,  in  despair  of  better  prey.  So  far  as  is  known, 
however,  the  enchanted  ring  is  unique  of  its  kind, 
and,  such  as  it  is,  is  not  likely  to  become  common 
property. 


II. 

OUT   OF   EGYPT. 

BUT  the  small  hours  of  the  morning  are  slipping 
away ;  we  must  construe  our  hieroglyphics  with 
out  further  palaver.  The  sleeper  lies  upon  his  side,  his 
left  hand  resting  near  his  face  upon  the  pillow.  Were 
he  to  move  it  ever  so  little  during  our  examination, 
the  history  of  years  might  be  thrown  into  confusion. 
Nevertheless,  we  shall  hope  to  touch  upon  all  the  more 
important  points,  and  in  some  cases  to  go  into  details. 

Concentrating  our  attention  upon  the  central  facet, 
its  clear  ray  strikes  the  imagination,  and  forthwith 
transports  us  to  a  distant  age  and  climate.  The  air  is 
full  of  lazy  warmth.  A  full-fed  river,  glassing  the  hot 
blue  sky,  slides  in  long  curves  through  a  low-lying, 
illimitable  plain.  The  rich  earth,  green  with  mighty 
crops,  everywhere  exhales  upward  the  quivering  heat 
of  her  breath.  An  indolent,  dark-skinned  race,  tur- 
baned  and  scantly  clothed,  move  through  the  meadows, 
splash  in  the  river,  and  rest  beneath  the  palm-trees, 
which  meet  in  graceful  clusters  here  and  there,  as  if 


18  IDOLATRY. 

striving  to  get  beneath  one  another's  shadow.  Dirty 
villages  swarm  and  babble  on  the  river's  brink. 

Were  there  leisure  to  listen,  the  diamond  could 
readily  relate  the  whole  history  of  this  famous  valley. 
Tor  the  stone  was  fashioned  to  its  present  shape  while 
the  thought  that  formed  the  Pyramids  was  yet  unborn, 
and  while  the  limestone  and  granite  whereof  they  are 
built  lay  in  their  silent  beds,  dreaming,  perchance,  of 
airy  days  before  the  deluge,  long  ere  the  heated  vapors 
stiffened  into  stone.  Some  great  patriarch  of  early 
days,  founder  of  a  race  called  by  his  name,  picked  up 
this  diamond  in  the  southern  desert,  and  gave  it  its 
present  form ;  perhaps,  also,  breathed  into  it  the  mar 
vellous  historical  gift  which  it  retains  to  this  day. 
Who  was  that  primal  man  ?  how  sounded  his  voice  ? 
were  his  eyes  terrible,  or  mild  ?  Seems,  as  we  speak, 
we  glimpse  his  majestic  figure,  and  the  grandeur  of  his 
face  and  cloudy  beard. 

He  passed  away,  but  the  enchanted  stone  remained, 
and  has  sparkled  along  the  splendid  march  of  successive 
dynasties,  and  has  reflected  men  and  cities  which  to  us 
are  nameless,  or  but  a  half-deciphered  name.  It  has 
seen  the  mystic  ceremonies  of  Egyptian  priests,  and 
counts  their  boasted  wisdom  as  a  twice-told  tale.  It 
has  watched  the  unceasing  toil  of  innumerable  slaves, 
piling  up  through  many  ardent  years  the  idle  tombs 
of  kings.  It  has  beheld  vast  winding  lengths  of  pro- 


OUT   OF   EGYPT.  19 

cessions  darken  and  glitter  across  the  plain,  slowly 
devoured  by  the  sinning  city,  or  issuing  from  her 
gates  like  a  monstrous  birth. 

But  whither  wander  we  ?  Standing  in  this  hotel 
of  modern  Boston,  we  must  confine  our  inquiries  to 
a  far  later  epoch  than  the  Pharaohs'.  Step  aside,  and 
let  the  old  history  sweep  past,  like  the  turbid  and 
eddying  current  of  the  mysterious  Nile;  forbearing 
to  launch  our  skiff  earlier  than  at  the  beginning  of 
the  present  century. 

The  middle  of  June,  eighteen  hundred  and  sixteen: 
the  river  is  just  beginning  to  rise,  and  the  thirsty 
land  spreads  wide  her  lap  to  receive  him.  Some 
miles  to  the  north  slumbers  Cairo  in  white  heat,  its 
outline  jagged  with  minarets  and  bulbous  domes. 
Southward,  the  shaded  Pyramids  print  their  everlast 
ing  outlines  against  the  tremulous  distance  ;  old  as 
they  are,  it  seems  as  though  a  puff  of  the  Khamsin 
might  dissolve  them  away.  Near  at  hand  is  a  noisy, 
naked  crowd  of  men  and  boys,  plunging  and  swim 
ming  in  the  water,  or  sitting  and  standing  along  the 
bank.  They  are  watching  and  discussing  the  slow 
approach  up  stream  of  a  large  boat  with  a  broad  lateen- 
sail,  and  a  strange  flag  fluttering  from  the  mast-head. 
Eumor  says  that  this  boat  contains  a  company  of 
strangers  from  beyond  the  sea ;  men  who  do  not 
wear  turbans,  whose  dress  is  close-fitting,  and  covers 


20  IDOLATRY. 

them  from  head  to  foot,  —  even  the  legs.  They  come 
to  learn  wisdom  and  civilization  from  the  Pyramids, 
and  among  the  ruins  of  Memphis. 

A  hundred  yards  below  this  shouting,  curious  crowd, 
stands,  waist-deep  in  the  Nile,  a  slender-limbed  boy, 
about  ten  years  old.  He  belongs  to  a  superior  caste, 
and  holds  himself  above  the  common  rabble.  Being 
perfectly  naked,  a  careless  eye  might,  however,  rank 
him  with  the  rest,  were  it  not  for  the  talisman  which 
he  wears  suspended  to  a  fine  gold  chain  round  his 
neck  ;  a  curiously  designed  diamond  ring,  the  inheri 
tance  of  a  long  line  of  priestly  ancestors.  The  boy's 
face  is  certainly  full  of  intelligence,  and  the  features 
are  finely  moulded  for  so  young  a  lad. 

He  also  is  watching  the  upward  progress  of  the 
lateen-sail ;  has  heard,  moreover,  the  report  concerning 
those  on  board.  He  wonders  where  is  the  country 
from  which  they  come.  Is  it  the  land  the  storks  fly  to, 
of  which  mother  (before  the  plague  carried  both  her 
and  father  to  a  stranger  land  still)  used  to  tell  such 
wonderful  stories  ?  Does  the  world  really  extend  far 
beyond  the  valley  ?  Is  the  world  all  valley  and  river, 
with  now  and  then  some  hills,  like  those  away  up  be 
yond  Memphis  ?  Are  there  other  cities  beside  Cairo, 
and  that  one  which  he  has  heard  of  but  never  seen,  — 
Alexandria  ?  Wonders  why  the  strangers  dress  in 
tight-fitting  clothes,  with  leg-coverings,  and  without 


OUT    OF   EGYPT.  21 

turbans !  Would  like  to  find  out  about  all  these 
things,  —  about  all  things  knowable  beside  these,  if 
any  there  be.  Would  like  to  go  back  with  the  stran 
gers  to  their  country,  when  they  return,  and  so  become 
the  wisest  and  most  powerful  of  his  race ;  wiser  even 
than  those  fabulously  learned  priestly  instructors  of 
his,  who  are  so  strict  with  him.  Perhaps  he  might 
find  all  his  forefathers  there,  and  his  kind  mother,  who 
used  to  tell  him  stories. 

Bah  !  how  the  sun  blisters  down  on  head  and  shoul 
ders  :  will  take  a  dive  and  a  swim,  —  a  short  swim 
only,  not  far  from  shore ;  for  was  not  the  priest  telling 
of  a  boy  caught  by  a  great  crocodile,  only  a  few  days 
ago,  and  never  seen  since  ?  But  there  is  no  crocodile 
near  to-day ;  and,  besides,  will  not  his  precious  talis 
man  keep  him  from  all  harm  ? 

The  subtile  Nile  catches  him  softly  in  his  cool  arms, 
dandles  him,  kisses  him,  flatters  him,  wooes  him  im 
perceptibly  onwards.  Now  he  is  far  from  shore,  and 
the  multitudinous  feet  of  the  current  are  hurrying  him 
away.  The  slow-moving  boat  is  much  nearer  than  it 
was  a  minute  ago,  — seems  to  be  rushing  towards 
him,  in  spite  of  the  laziness  of  the  impelling  breeze. 
The  boy,  as  yet  unconscious  of  his  peril,  now  glances 
shorewards,  and  sees  the  banks  wheel  past.  The  crowd 
of  bathers  is  already  far  beyond  hearing ;  yet,  fright 
ened  and  tired,  he  wastes  his  remaining  strength  in 


22  IDOLATRY. 

fruitless  shouts.  Now  the  deceitful  eddies,  once  so 
soft  and  friendly,  whirl  him  down  in  ruthless  exulta 
tion.  He  will  never  reach  the  shore,  good  swimmer 
though  he  be ! 

Hark  !  what  plunged  from  the  bank,  —  what  black 
tiling  moves  towards  him  across  the  water  ?  The 
crocodile  !  coming  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  a  long 
grin  of  serried  teeth.  Coming  !  —  the  ugly  scaly  head  is 
always  nearer  and  nearer.  The  boy  screams ;  but  who 
should  hear  him  ?  He  feels  whether  the  talisman  be 
yet  round  his  neck.  He  screams  again,  calling,  in 
half-delirium,  upon  his  dead  mother.  Meanwhile  the 
scaly  snout  is  close  upon  him. 

A  many- voiced  shout,  close  at  hand ;  a  splashing  of 
poles  in  the  water ;  a  rippling  of  eddies  against  a 
boat's  bows  !  As  the  boy  drifts  by,  a  blue-eyed,  yel 
low-bearded  viking  swings  himself  from  the  halyard, 
catches  him,  pulls  him  aboard  with  a  jerk  and  a  shout, 
safe!  The  long  grin  snaps  emptily  together  behind 
him.  The  boy  lies  on  the  deck,  a  vision  of  people  with 
leg-coverings  and  other  oddities  of  costume  swimming 
in  his  eyes;  one  of  them  supports  his  head  on  his 
knee,  and  bends  over  him  a  round,  good-natured,  spec 
tacled  face.  Above,  a  beautiful  flag,  striped  and  starred 
with  white,  blue,  and  red,  flaps  indolently  against  the 
mast.  — 

Precisely  at  this   point  the  sleeper  stirs  his  hand 


OUT   OF  EGYPT.  23 

slightly,  but  enough   to  throw  the  record  of   several 
succeeding     years    into    uncertainty    and     confusion. 
Here  and  there,  however,  we  catch  imperfect  glimpses 
of  the  Egyptian  lad,  steadily  growing  up  to  be  a  tall 
young    man.      He    is    dressed    in   European    clothes, 
and    lives   and   moves   amid   civilized    surroundings : 
Egypt,  with  her  Pyramids,  palms,  and  river,  we  see  no 
more.     The  priest's  son  seems  now  to  be  immersed  in 
studies ;  he  shows  a  genius  for  music  and  painting,  and 
is  diligently  storing  his  mind  with  other  than  Egyptian 
lore.     With  him,  or  never  far  away,  we  meet  a  man 
considerably  older  than   the   student,  —  good-natured, 
whimsical,  round  of  head  and  face  and  insignificant  of 
feature.      Towards  him  does  the  student  observe  the 
profoundest  deference,  bowing  before  him,  and  address 
ing   him    as   "Master    Hiero,"  or  "Master  Glyphic." 
Master  Hiero,  for  his  part,  calls  the  Egyptian  "  Mane- 
tlio  "  ;  from  which  we  might  infer  his  descent  from  the 
celebrated  historian  of  that  name,  but  will  not  insist 
upon  this  genealogy.     As  for  the  studies,  from  certain 
signs  we  fancy  them  tending  towards  theology;    the 
descendant  of  Egyptian  priests  is  to  become  a  Chris 
tian  clergyman  !     Nevertheless,  he  still  wears  his  talis- 
manic  ring.     Does  he  believe  it  saved  him  from  the 
crocodile  ?     Does  his  Christian  enlightenment  not  set 
him  free  from  such  superstition  ? 

So  much  we  piece  together  from  detached  glimpses ; 


24  IDOLATRY. 

but  now,  as  the  magic  ray  steadies  once  more,  things 
become  again  distinct.  Judging  from  the  style  and 
appointments  of  Master  Hiero  Glyphic's  house,  he  is 
a  wealthy  man,  and  eccentric  as  well.  It  is  full  of 
strange  incongruities  and  discords  ;  beauties  in  abun 
dance,  but  iU  harmonized.  One  half  the  house  is  built 
like  an  Egyptian  temple,  and  is  enriched  with  many 
spoils  from  the  valley  of  the  Kile ;  and  here  a  secret 
chamber  is  set  apart  for  Manetho  ;  its  very  existence 
is  known  to  no  one  save  himself  and  Master  Hiero. 
He  spends  much  of  his  time  here,  meditating  and 
working  amidst  his  books  and  papers,  playing  on  his 
violin,  or  leaning  idly  back  in  his  chair,  watching  the 
sunlight,  through  the  horizontal  aperture  high  above 
his  head,  creep  stealthily  across  the  opposite  wall. 

But  these  saintly  and  scholarly  reveries  are  dis 
turbed  anon.  Master  Hiero,  though  a  bachelor,  has  a 
half-sister,  a  pale,  handsome,  indolent  young  woman, 
with  dark  hair  and  eyes,  and  a  rather  haughty  manner. 
Helen  appears,  and  thenceforth  the  household  lives  and 
breathes  according  to  her  languid  bidding.  Manetho 
comes  out  of  his  retirement,  and  dances  reverential 
attendance  upon  her.  He  is  twenty-five  years  old, 
now;  tall,  slender,  and  far  from  ill-looking,  with  his 
dark,  narrow  eyes,  wide  brows,  and  tapering  face.  His 
manners  are  gentle,  subdued,  insinuating,  and  alto 
gether  he  seems  to  please  Helen;  she  condescends  to 


OUT    OF   EGYPT.  25 

him,  —  more  than  condescends,  perhaps.  Meantime, 
alas  !  there  is  a  secret  opposition  in  progress,  embodied 
in  the  shapely  person  of  that  bright-eyed  gypsy  of  a 
girl  whom  her  mistress  Helen  calls  Salome.  There  is 
no  question  as  to  Salome's  complete  subjection  to  the 
attractions  of  the  young  embryo  clergyman ;  she  pur 
sues  him  with  eyes  and  heart,  and,  seeing  him  by 
Helen's  side,  she  is  miserably  but  dumbly  jealous. 

How  is  this  matter  to  end  ?  Manetho's  devotion  to 
Helen  seems  unwavering;  yet  sometimes  it  is  hard 
not  to  suspect  a  secret  understanding  between  him  and 
Salome.  He  has  ceased  to  wear  his  ring,  and  once  we 
caught  a  diamond-sparkle  from  beneath  the  thick  folds 
of  lace  which  cover  Helen's  bosom ;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  fear  his  arm  has  been  round  the  gypsy's  grace 
ful  waist,  and  that  she  has  learnt  the  secret  of  the  pri 
vate  chamber.  Is  demure  Manetho  a  flirt,  or  do  his 
affections  and  his  ambition  run  counter  to  each  other  ?  . 
Helen  would  bring  him  the  riches  of  this  world,  —  but 
what  should  a  clergyman  care  for  such  vanities  ?  — 
while  Salome,  to  our  thinking,  is  far  the  prettier,  live 
lier,  and  more  attractive  woman  of  the  two.  Brother 
Hiero,  whimsical  and  preoccupied,  sees  nothing  of 
what  is  going  on.  He  is  an  antiquary,  —  an  Egyptolo 
gist,  and  thereto  his  soul  is  wedded.  He  has  no  eyes 

nor  ears  for  the  loves  of  other  people  for  one  another. 

Provoking!     The  uneasy  sleeper  has  moved  again, 
2 


26  IDOLATRY. 

and    disorganized,   beyond    remedy,   the   events   of  a 
whole  year.     Judging  from  such  fragments   as   reach 
us,  it  must  have  been  a  momentous  epoch  in  our  his 
tory.     From  the  beginning,  a  handsome,  stalwart,  blue- 
eyed  man,  with  a  great  beard  like  a  sheaf  of  straw, 
shoulders   upon   the   scene,  and  thenceforth   becomes 
inextricably  mixed  up  with  dark-eyed  Helen.     We  rec 
ognize  in  him  an  old  acquaintance;   he  was  on  the 
lateen-sailed  boat  that  went  up  the  Nile;   it  was  he 
who  swung  himself  from  the  vessel's  side,  and  pulled 
Manetho  out  of  the  jaws  of  death,  —  a  fact,  by  the  way, 
of  which  Manetho  remained  ignorant  until  his  dying 
day.     With  this  new  arrival,  Helen's  supremacy  in  the 
household  ends.     Thor  — so  they  call  him  — involun 
tarily  commands  her,  and  so  her  subjects.     Against  him, 
the  Reverend  Manetho  has  not  the  ghost  of  a  chance. 
To  his  credit  is  it  that  he  conceals  whatever  emotions 
of  disappointment  or  jealousy  he  might  be  supposed  to 
feel,  and  is  no  less  winning  towards  Thor  than  towards 
the  rest  of  the  world.     But  is  it  possible  that  the  talis 
man  still  hides  in  Helen's  bosom  ?     Does  the  conflict 
which  it  symbolizes  beset  her  heart  ? 

The  enchanted  mirror  is  still  again,  and  a  curious 
scene  is  reflected  from  it.  A  large  and  lofty  room, 
windowless,  lit  by  flaring  lamps  hung  at  intervals 
round  the  walls ;  the  panels  contain  carvings  in  bas- 
relief  of  Egyptian  emblems  and  devices ;  columns  sur- 


OUT   OF  EGYPT.  27 

round  the  central  space,  their  capitals  carved  with  the 
lotos-flower,  their  bases  planted  amidst  papyrus  leaves. 
A  border  of  hieroglyphic  inscription  encircles  the  walls, 
just  beneath  the  ceiling.  In  each  corner  of  the  room 
rests  a  red  granite  sarcophagus,  and  between  each  pair 
of. pillars  stands  a  mummy  in  its  wooden  case.  At 
that  end  farthest  from  the  low-browed  doorway  — 
which  is  guarded  by  two  great  figures  of  Isis  and 
Osiris,  sitting  impassive,  with  hands  on  knees — is 
raised  an  altar  of  black  marble,  on  which  burns  some 
incense.  The  perfumed  smoke,  wavering  upwards, 
mingles  with  that  of  the  lamps  beneath  the  high  ceil 
ing.  The  prevailing  color  is  ruddy  Indian-red,  relieved 
by  deep  blue  and  black,  while  brighter  tints  show  here 
and  there.  Blocks  of  polished  stone  pave  the  floor, 
and  dimly  reflect  the  lights. 

In  front  of  the  altar  stands  a  ministerial  figure,  — 
none  other  than  Manetlio,  who  must  have  taken 
orders,  —  and  joins  together,  in  holy  matrimony,  the 
yellow-bearded  Thor  and  the  dark-haired  Helen.  Mas 
ter  Hiero,  his  round,  snub-nosed  face  red  with  fussy 
emotion,  gives  the  bride  away ;  while  Salome,  dressed 
in  white  and  looking  very  pretty  and  lady-like,  does 
service  as  bridesmaid,  —  such  is  her  mistress's  whim. 
She  seems  in  even  better  spirits  than  the  pale  bride, 
and  her  black  eyes  scarcely  wander  from  the  minister's 
rapt  countenance. 


IDOLATEY. 

But  a  few  hours  later,  when  bride  and  groom  are 
gone,  Salome,  —  who,  on  some  plausible  pretext  of  her 
own,  has  been  allowed  to  remain  with  brother  Hiero 
until  her  mistress  returns  from  the  wedding-tour, — 
Salome  appears  in  the  secret  chamber,  where  the  Kev- 
erend  Manetho  sits  with  his  head  between  his  hands. 
We  will  not  look  too  closely  at  this  interview.  There 
are  words  fierce  and  tender,  tears  and  pleadings,  fever 
ish  caresses,  incoherent  promises,  distrustful  bargains ; 
and  it  is  late  before  they  part.  Salome  passes  out 
through  the  great  tomb-like  hall,  where  all  the  lamps 
save  one  are  burnt  out;  and  the  young  minister  re 
mains  to  pursue  his  holy  meditations  alone. 

We  are  too  discreet  to  meddle  with  the  honeymoon ; 
but,  passing  over  some  eight  months,  behold  the  hus 
band  and  wife  returned,  to  plume  their  wings  ere  tak 
ing  the  final  flight.  Another  strange  scene  attracts 
us  here. 

The  dusk  of  a  summer  evening.  Helen,  with  a  more 
languid  step  and  air  than  before  marriage,  saunters 
along  a  path  through  the  trees,  some  distance  from  the 
house.  She  is  clad  in  loose-flowing  drapery,  and  has 
thrown  a  white  shawl  over  her  head  and  shoulders. 
Beaching  a  bench  of  rustic  woodwork,  she  drops  wea- 
riedly  down  upon  it. 

Manetho  comes  out  all  at  once,  and  stands  before 
her ;  he  seems  to  have  darkened  together  from  the 


OUT   OF   EGYPT.  29 

shadow  of  the  surrounding  trees.  Perhaps  a  little 
startled  at  his  so  abrupt  appearance,  she  opens  her 
eyes  with  a  wondering  haughtiness ;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  the  light  pressure  of  the  enchanted  ring  against 
her  bosom  feels  like  a  dull  sting,  and  her  heart  beats 
uncomfortably.  He  begins  to  speak  in  his  usual  tone 
of  softest  deference ;  he  sits  down  by  her,  and  now  she 
is  paler,  glances  anxiously  up  the  path  for  her  delaying 
husband,  and  the  hand  that  lifts  her  handkerchief  to 
her  lips  trembles  a  little.  Is  it  at  his  words  ?  or  at 
their  tone  ?  or  at  what  she  sees  lurking  behind  his 
dusky  eyes,  curdling  beneath  his  thin,  dark  skin,  quiv 
ering  down  to  the  tips  of  his  long,  slender  fingers  ? 

All  in  a  moment  he  bursts  forth,  without  warning, 
without  restraint,  the  fire  of  the  Egyptian  sun  boiling 
in  his  blood  and  blazing  in  his  passion.  He  seizes 
her  soft  white  wrist,  —  then  her  waist ;  he  presses 
against  his,  her  bosom,  —  what  a  throbbing  !  —  her 
cheek  to  his,  —  how  aghast !  He  pours  hot  words  in 
torrents  into  her  ears,  —  all  that  his  fretting  heart  has 
hoarded  up  and  brooded  over  these  months  and  years  ! 
all,  —  sparing  her  not  a  thought,  not  a  passionate 
word.  She  tries  to  repel  him,  to  escape,  to  scream  for 
help ;  but  he  looks  down  her  eyes  with  his  own,  holds 
her  fast,  and  she  gasps  for  breath.  So  the  serpent  coils 
about  the  dove,  and  stamps  his  image  upon  her  bewil 
dered  brain. 


30  IDOLATRY. 

Verily,  the  Reverend  Manetho  has  much  forgot 
ten  himself.  The  issue  might  have  been  disastrous, 
had  not  Helen,  in  the  crisis  of  the  affair,  lost  conscious 
ness,  and  fallen  a  dead  weight  in  his  arms.  He  laid 
her  gently  on  the  bench,  fumbled  for  a  moment  in  the 
bosom  of  her  dress,  and  drew  out  the  diamond  ring. 
Just  then  is  heard  the  solid  step  of  Thor,  striding  and 
whistling  along  the  path.  Manetho  snaps  the  golden 
chain,  and  vanishes  with  his  talisman ;  and  he  is  the 
first  to  appear,  full  of  sympathy  and  concern,  when  the 
distracted  husband  shouts  for  help. 

Next  morning,  two  little  struggling  human  beings 
are  blinking  and  crying  in  a  darkened  room,  and  there 
is  no  mother  to  give  them  milk,  and  cherish  them  in 
her  bosom.  There  sits  the  father,  almost  as  still  and 
cold  as  what  was  his  wife.  She  did  not  speak  to  him, 
nor  seem  to  know  him,  to  the  last.  He  will  never 
know  the  truth ;  Manetho  comes  and  goes,  and  reads 
the  burial-service,  unsuspected  and  unpunished.  But 
Salome  follows  him  away  from  the  grave,  and  some 
words  pass  between  them.  The  man  is  no  longer  what 
he  was.  He  turns  suddenly  upon  her  and  strikes  out 
with  savage  force  ;  the  diamond  on  his  finger  bites  into 
the  flesh  of  the  gypsy's  breast ;  she  will  carry  the  scar 
of  that  brutal  blow  as  long  as  she  lives.  So  he  drove 
his  only  lover  away,  and  looked  upon  her  bright,  hand 
some  face  no  more. 


OUT   OF   EGYPT.  31 

Here  Doctor  Glyphic  —  or  whoever  this  sleeping 
man  may  be  —  turns  heavily  upon  his  face,  drawing 
his  hand,  with  the  blood-stained  ring,  out  of  sight. 
We  are  glad  to  leave  him  to  his  bad  dreams ;  the  air 
oppresses  us.  Come,  't  is  time  we  were  off.  The 
eastern  horizon  bows  before  the  sun,  the  air  colors 
delicate  pink,  and  the  very  tombstones  in  the  grave 
yard  blush  for  sympathy.  The  sparrows  have  been 
awake  for  a  half-hour  past,  and,  up  aloft,  the  clouds, 
which  wander  ceaselessly  over  the  face  of  the  earth, 
alighting  only  on  lonely  mountain-tops,  are  tinted  into 
rainbow-quarries  by  the  glorious  spectacle. 


III. 

A  MAY  MORNING. 

KING  ARTHUR,  in  his  Bohemian  days,  carried 
an  adamantine  shield,  the  gift  of  some  fairy  rel 
ative.  Not  only  was  it  impenetrable,  but,  so  intolera 
ble  was  its  lustre,  it  overthrew  all  foes  before  the  lance's 
point  could  reach  them.  Observing  this,  the  chivalric 
monarch  had  a  cover  made  for  it,  which  he  never  re 
moved  save  in  the  face  of  superhuman  odds. 

Here  is  an  analogy.  The  imaginative  reader  may 
look  upon  our  enchanted  facet-mirror  as  too  glaringly 
simple  and  direct  a  source  of  facts  to  suit  the  needs 
of  a  professed  romance.  Be  there  left,  he  would  say, 
some  room  for  fancy,  and  even  for  conjecture.  Let 
the  author  seem  occasionally  to  consult  with  his  com 
panion,  gracefully  to  defer  to  his  judgment.  Bare 
statement,  the  parade  of  indisputable  evidence,  is 
well  enough  in  law,  but  appears  ungentle  in  a  work 
of  fiction. 

How  just  is  this  mild  censure !  how  gladly  are 
its  demands  conceded !  Let  dogmatism  retire,  and 
blossom,  flowers  of  fancy,  on  your  yielding  stems! 


A  MAY   MORNING.  33 

Henceforward  the  reader  is  our  confidential  counsellor. 
We  will  pretend  that  our  means  of  information  are  no 
better  than  other  writers'.  We  will  uniformly  revel  in 
speculation,  and  dally  with  imaginative  delights  ;  and 
only  when  hard  pressed  for  the  true  path  will  we 
snatch  off  the  veil,  and  let  forth  for  a  moment  a  re 
deeming  ray. 

In  this  generous  mood,  we  pass,  through  the  par 
tition  between  No.  27  and  No.  29.  In  the  matter 
of  bedchambers  —  even  hotel  bedchambers  —  there  can 
be  great  diversity.  That  we  were  in  just  now  was 
close  and  unwholesome,  and  wore  an  air  of  feverish- 
ness  and  disorder.  Here,  on  the  contra^,  the  air  is 

fresh  and  brisk,  for  the  breeze  from  Boston  harbor 

slightly  flavored,  it  is  true,  by  its  journey  across  the 
northern  part  of  the  city  — has  been  blowing  into  the 
room  all  night  long.  Here  are  some  trunks  and  carpet 
bags,  well  bepasted  with  the  names  of  foreign  towns 
and  countries,  famous  and  infamous.  One  of  the 
trunks  is  a  bathing-tub,  fitted  with  a  cover,  —  an 
agreeable  promise  of  refreshment  amidst  the  dust  and 
weariness  of  travel.  A  Eussia-leather  travelling-bag 
lies  open  on  the  table,  disgorging  an  abundant  arma 
ment  of  brushes  and  combs  and  various  toilet  niceties. 
Mr.  Helwyse  must  be  a  dandy. 

Cheek  by  jowl  with  the  haversack  lies  a  cylindrical 
case  of  the  same  kind  of  leather,  with  a  strap  attached,  to 


34  IDOLATRY. 

sling  over  the  shoulder.  This,  perhaps,  contains  a  tel 
escope.  It  would  not  be  worth  mentioning,  save  that 
our  prophetic  vision  sees  it  coming  into  use  by  and  by. 
Not  to  analyze  too  closely,  everything  in  this  room 
speaks  of  life,  health,  and  movement.  In  spite  of 
smallness,  bareness,  and  angularity,  it  is  fit  for  a  May 
morning  to  enter,  and  expand  to  full-grown  day. 

It  is  now  about  half  past  four,  and  the  crisp  new 
sunshine,  just  above  ground,  has  clambered  over  the 
window-sill,  taken  a  flying  leap  across  the  narrow  floor, 
and  is  chuckling  full  in  the  agreeable  face  asleep  upon 
the  pillow.  The  face,  feeling  the  warmth,  and  con 
scious,  through  its  closed  eyelids,  of  the  light,  pres 
ently  stretches  its  eyebrows,  then  blinks,  and  finally 
yawns,  —  Ah — h  !  Thirty-two  even,  white  teeth,  in 
perfect  order  ;  a  great,  red,  healthy  tongue,  and  a 
round,  •  mellow  roar,  the  parting  remonstrance  of  the 
sleepy  god,  taking  flight  for  the  day.  Thereupon  a 
voice,  fetched  from  some  profounder  source  than  the 
back  of  the  head,— 

"  Steward  !  bring  me  my  —  Oh  !  A  land-lubber 
again,  am  I  ! " 

Mr.  Balder  Helwyse  now  sits  up  in  bed,  his  hair 
and  beard,  —  which  are  extraordinarily  luxuriant,  and 
will  be  treated  at  greater  length  hereafter,  —  his  ^  hair 
and  beard  in  the  wildest  confusion.  He  stares  about 
him  with  a  pair  of  well-opened  dark  eyes,  which  con- 


A  MAY  MORNING.  35 

trast  strangely  with  his  fair  Northern  complexion. 
Next  comes  a  spasmodic  stretching  of  arms  and  legs, 
a  whisking  of  bedclothes,  and  a  solid  thump  of  two 
feet  upon  the  floor.  Another  survey  of  the  room, 
ending  with  a  deep  breathing  in  of  the  fresh  air  and 
an  appreciative  smack  of  the  lips. 

"  0  nose,  eyes,  ears,  and  all  my  other  godlike  senses 
and  faculties !  what  a  sensation  is  this  of  Mother 
Earth  at  sunrise  !  Better,  seems  to  me,  than  ocean, 
beloved  of  my  Scandinavian  forefathers.  Hear  those 
birds  !  look  at  those  divine  trees,  and  the  tall  moist 
grass  round  them  !  By  my  head !  living  is  a  glorious 
business  !  —  What,  ho  !  slave,  empty  me  here  that 
bath-tub,  and  then  ring  the  bell." 

The  slave  —  a  handsome,  handy  fellow,  unusually 
docile,  inseparable  from  his  master,  whose  life-long 
bondsman  he  was,  and  so  much  like  him  in  many 
ways  (owing,  perhaps,  to  the  intimacy  always  sub 
sisting  between  the  two),  that  he  had  more  than  once 
been  confounded  with  him,  —  this  obedient  menial  — 

No  !  not  even  for  a  moment  will  we  mislead  our 
reader.  Are  we  not  sworn  confidants  ?  What  is  he 
to  think,  then,  of  this  abrupt  introduction,  unheralded, 
unexplained  ?  Be  it  at  once  confessed  that  Mr.  Helwyse 
travelled  unattended,  that  there  was  no  slave  or  other 
person  of  any  kind  in  the  room,  and  that  this  high- 
sounding  order  of  his  was  a  mere  ebullition  of  his 
peculiar  humor. 


36  IDOLATRY. 

He  was  a  philosopher,  and  was  in  the  habit  of  making 
many  of  his  tenets  minister  to  his  amusement,  when  in 
his  more  sportive  and  genial  moods.  Not  to  exhaust 
his  characteristics  too  early  in  the  story,  it  need  only 
be  observed  here  that  he  held  body  and  soul  distinct, 
and  so  far  antagonistic  that  one  or  the  other  must  be 
master ;  furthermore,  that  the  soul's  supremacy  was  the 
more  desirable.  Whether  it  were  also  invariable  and 
uncontested,  there  will  be  opportunity  to  find  out  later. 
Meantime,  this  dual  condition  was  productive  of  not  a 
little  harmless  entertainment  to  Mr.  Helwyse,  at  times 
when  persons  less  happily  organized  would  become 
victims  of  ennui.  Be  the  conditions  what  they  might, 
he  was  never  without  a  companion,  whose  ways  he 
knew,  and  whom  he  wTas  yet  never  weary  of  question 
ing  and  studying.  No  subject  so  dull  that  its  different 
aspects,  as  viewed  from  soul  and  from  body,  would  not 
give  it  piquancy.  No  question  so  trivial  that  its  dis 
cussion  on  material  and  on  spiritual  grounds  would  not 
lend  it  importance.  Nor  was  any  enjoyment  so  keen 
as  not  to  be  enhanced  by  the  contrast  of  its  physical 
with  its  psychical  phase. 

Waking  up,  therefore,  on  this  May  morning,  and 
being  in  a  charming  humor,  he  chose  to  look  upon 
himself  as  the  proprietor  of  a  body-servant,  and  to  give 
his  orders  with  patrician  imperiousness.  The  obedient 
menial,  then,  —  to  resume  the  thread,  —  sprang  upon 


A  MAY   MORNING.  37 

the  tub-trunk,  whipped  off  the  lid,  and  discharged  the 
contents  upon  the  bed  in  a  twinkling.  This  clone,  he 
stepped  to  the  bell-rope,  and  lent  it  a  vigorous  jerk, 
soon  answered  by  a  brisk  tapping  at  the  door. 

"  Please,  sir,  did  you  ring  ? " 

"  Indeed  I  did,  my  dear.  Are  you  the  pretty  cham 
bermaid  ? " 

This  bold  venture  is  met  by  silence,  only  modified  by 
a  low  delighted  giggle.  Presently,  —  "  Did  you  want 
anything,  sir,  please  ? " 

"  Ever  so  many  things,  my  girl ;  more  than  my  life 
is  long  enough  to  tell !  First,  though,  I  want  to  apolo 
gize  for  addressing  you  from  behind  a  closed  door  ;  but 
circumstances  which  I  can  neither  explain  nor  over 
come  forbid  my  opening  it.  Next,  two  pails  of  the 
best  cold  water  at  your  earliest  convenience.  Hurry, 
now,  there  's  a  Hebe  ! " 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  giggles  Hebe,  retreating  down  the 
passage. 

It  is  to  be  supposed  that  it  was  the  plebeian  body- 
servant  that  carried  on  this  unideal  conversation,  and 
that  the  patrician  soul  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  The 
ability  to  lay  the  burden  of  lapses  from  good  taste,  and 
other  goods,  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  flesh,  is  some 
times  convenient  and  comforting. 

Balder  Helwyse,  master  and  man,  turns  away  from 
the  door,  and  catches  sight  of  a  white-robed,  hairy- 


38  IDOLATRY. 

headed  reflection  in  the  looking-glass,  the  phantom  face 
of  which  at  once  expands  in  a  genial  expression  of 
mirth ;  an  impalpable  arm  is  outstretched,  and  the 
mouth  seems  thus  to  speak :  — 

"  Stick  to  your  bath,  my  good  fellow,  and  the  evil 
tilings  of  this  life  shall  not  get  hold  of  you.  Water 
is  like  truth, —  purifying,  transparent;  a  tonic  to  those 
fouled  and  wearied  with  the  dust  and  vanity  of  this 
transitional  phenomenon  called  the  world.  Patronize 
it !  be  thy  acquaintance  with  it  constant  and  familiar ! 
Eemember,  my  dear  Balder,  that  this  slave, of  thine  is 
the  medium  through  which  something  better  than  he 
(thyself,  namely)  is  filtered  to  the  world,  and  the  world 
to  thee.  Go  to,  then  !  if  the  filter  be  foul,  shall  not 
that  which  is  filtered  become  unclean  also  ? " 

Here  the  rhetorical  phantom  was  interrupted  by  the 
sound  of  a  very  good  violin,  touched  with  unusual 
skill,  in  the  next  room.  The  phantom  vanished,  but 
Mr.  Helwyse  seated  himself  softly  upon  the  bed,  lis 
tening  with  full  enjoyment  to  every  note;  his  very 
toes  seeming  to  partake  of  his  appreciation.  Music  is 
the  mysterious  power  which  makes  body  and  soul  — 
master  and  man  —  thrill  as  one  string.  The  musician 
played  several  bars,  beautiful  in  themselves,  but  un 
connected;  and  ever  and  anon  there  sounded  a  dis 
cordant  note,  like  a  smirch  upon  a  fair  picture.  The 
execution,  however,  showed  a  master  hand,  and  the 


A   MAY   MORNING.  39 

themes  betrayed  the  soul  of   a  true   musician,  albeit 
tainted  with  some  subtile  deformity. 

"  Heard  him  last  night,  and  fell  asleep,  dreaming 
of  a  man  with  the  brain  of  a  devil  and  an  angel's 
heart.  Drop  in  on  him  presently,  and  have  him  down 
to  breakfast.  If  young,  shall  be  our  brother,  —  so  long 
as  there  's  anything  in  him.  If —  as  I  partly  suspect 
—  old,  and  a  father,  marry  his  daughter.  But  no ; 
sucli  a  fiddler  as  he  can't  be  married,  unless  unhap 
pily."  Mr.  Helwyse  runs  his  hands  dreamily  through 
his  tangled  mane,  and  shakes  it  back.  If  philosophi 
cal,  he  seems  also  to  be  romantic  and  imaginative, 
and  impressionable  by  other  personalities.  It  is,  to 
be  sure,  unfair  to  judge  a  man  from  such  unconsidered 
words  as  he  may  let  fall  during  the  first  half-hour 
after  waking  up  in  the  morning ;  were  it  otherwise,  we 
should  infer  that,  although  he  might  take  a  genuine 
interest  in  whomever  he  meets,  it  would  be  too  ana 
lytical  to  last  long,  except  where  the  vein  was  a  very 
rich  one.  He  would  pick  the  kernel  out  of  the  nut, 
but,  that  done,  would  feel  no  sentimental  interest  in 
the  shell.  Too  much  of  this  !  and  yet  who  can  help 
drawing  conclusions  (and  not  always  incorrectly)  from 
the  first  sight  and  sound  of  a  new  acquaintance  ? 

There  is  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Mr.  Helwyse  calls 
out,  "  Hullo  ?  Ah !  the  cold  water,  emblem  of  truth. 
Thank  you,  Hebe ;  and  scamper  away  as  fast  as  you 
can,  for  I  'm  going  to  open  the  door !  " 


40  IDOLATRY. 

"We  also  will  retire,  fastidious  reader,  and  employ  tlie 
leisure  interval  in  packing  an  imaginary  carpet-bag  for 
a  short  journey.  Our  main  business,  during  the  next 
few  days,  is  with  Mr.  Helwyse,  and  since  there  will  be 
no  telling  what  becomes  of  him  after  that,  he  must  be 
followed  up  pretty  closely.  A  few  days  does  not  seem 
much  for  the  getting  a  satisfactory  knowledge  of  a 
man ;  nevertheless,  an  hour,  rightly  used,  may  be  ample. 
If  he  will  continue  his  habit  of  thinking  aloud,  will 
affect  situations  tending  to  bring  out  his  leading  traits 
of  character ;  if  we  may  intrude  upon  him,  note-book 
in  hand,  in  all  his  moods  and  crises,  —  with  all  this 
in  addition  to  discretionary  use  of  the  magic  mirror, 
—  it  will  be  our  own  fault  if  Mr.  Helwyse  be  not 
turned  inside  out.  Properly  speaking,  there  is  no 
mystery  about  men,  but  only  a  great  dulness  and 
lethargy  in  our  perceptions  of  them.  The  secret  of 
the  universe  is  no  more  a  secret  than  is  the  answer 
to  a  school-boy's  problem.  A  mathematician  will  draw 
you  a  triangle  and  a  circle,  and  show  you  the  trigo 
nometrical  science  latent  therein.  But  a  profounder 
mathematician  would  do  as  much  with  the  equation 
man ! 

While  Mr.  Helwyse  is  still  lingering  over  his  toilet, 
his  neighbor  the  fiddler,  whom  he  had  meant  to  ask 
to  breakfast,  comes  out  of  his  room,  violin-box  in  hand, 
walks  along  the  passage-way,  and  is  off  down  stairs. 


A   MAY   MORNING.  41 

An  odd-looking  figure ;  those  stylish  clothes  become 
him  as  little  as  they  would  a  long-limbed,  angular 
Egyptian  statue.  Fashion,  in  some  men,  is  an  eccen 
tricity,  or  rather  a  violence  done  to  their  essential 
selves.  A  born  fop  would  have  looked  as  little  at 
home  in  a  toga  and  sandals,  as  did  this  swarthy  musi 
cian,  doctor,  priest,  or  whatever  he  was,  in  his  fashion- 
plate  costume.  Then  why  did  he  wear  it  ? 

There  are  other  things  to  be  followed  up  before 
attending  to  that  question.  But  the  man  is  gone,  and 
Balder  Helwyse  has  missed  this  opportunity  of  making 
his  acquaintance.  Had  he  been  an  hour  earlier,  —  had 
any  one  of  us,  for  that  matter,  ever  been  an  hour  ear 
lier  or  later,  —  who  can  tell  how  the  destinies  of  the 
world  would  be  affected!  Luckily  for  our  peace  of 
mind,  the  hypothesis  involves  an  impossibility. 


IV. 

A  BEAHMAK 

"TTT~HOEVEE  lias  been  in  Boston  remembers,  or 
*  *  has  seen,  the  old  Beacon  Hill  Bank,  which 
stood,  not  on  Beacon  Hill,  indeed,  but  in  that  part  of 
School  Street  now  occupied  by  the  City  Hall.  You 
passed  down  by  the  dirty  old  church,  on  the  northeast 
corner  of  School  and  Tremont  Streets,  which  stands 
trying  to  hide  its  ugly  face  behind  a  row  of  columns 
like  sooty  fingers,  and  whose  School-Street  side  is  quite 
bare,  and  has  the  distracted  aspect  peculiar  to  build 
ings  erected  on  an  inclined  plane  ;  —  passing  this,  you 
came  in  sight  of  the  bank,  a  darksome,  respectable 
edifice  of  brick,  two  stories  and  a  half  high,  and  gam- 
brel-roofed.  It  stood  a  little  back  from  the  street, 
much  as  an  antiquated  aristocrat  might  withdraw 
from  the  stream  of  modern  life,  and  fancy  himself 
exclusive.  The  poor  old  bank  !  Its  respectable  brick 
walls  have  contributed  a  few  rubbish-heaps  to  the  new 
land  in  the  Back  Bay,  perhaps ;  and  its  floors  and 
gambrel-roof  have  long  since  vanished  up  somebody's 
chimney;  only  its  money  —  its  baser  part  —  still  sur- 


A   BRAHMAN.  43 

vives  and  circulates.     Aristocracy  and  exclusivism  do 
not  pay. 

The  bank,  perhaps,  took  its  title  from  the  fact  that 
it  owed  its  chief  support  to  the  Beacon  Hill  families,  — 
Boston's  aristocracy ;  and  Boston's  standard  names  ap 
peared  upon  its  list  of  managers.  If  business  led  you 
that  way,  you  mounted  the  well-worn  steps,  and  en 
tered  the  rather  strict  and  formal  door,  over  which 
clung  the  weather-worn  sign,  —  faded  gold  lettering 
upon  a  rusty  black  background.  Nothing  that  met 
your  eyes  looked  new,  although  everything  was  scru 
pulously  neat.  Opposite  the  doorway,  a  wooden  flight 
of  stairs  mounted  to  the  next  floor,  where  were  the 
offices  of  some  old  Puritan  lawyers.  Leaving  the  stairs 
on  your  left,  you  passed  down  a  dusky  passage,  and 
through  a  glass  door,  when  behold !  the  banking-room, 
with  its  four  grave  bald-headed  clerks.  But  you  did 
not  come  to  draw  or  deposit,  your  business  was  with 
the  President.  "Mr.  MacGentle  in?"  "That  way, 
sir."  You  opened  a  door  with  "  Private "  painted  in 
black  letters  upon  its  ground-glass  panel.  Another 
bald-headed  gentleman,  with  a  grim  determination 
about  the  mouth,  rose  up  from  his  table  and  barred 
your  way.  This  was  Mr.  Dyke,  the  breakwater  against 
which  the  waves  of  would-be  intruders  into  the  inner 
seclusion  often  broke  themselves  in  vain  ;  and  unless 
you  had  a  genuine  pass,  your  expedition  ended  there. 


44  IDOLATRY. 

Our  pass  —  for  we,  too,  are  to  call  on  Mr.  MacGentle 
—  would  carry  us  through  solider  obstructions  than 
Mr.  Dyke;  it  is  the  pass  of  imagination.  He  does 
not  even  raise  his  head  as  we  brush  by  him. 

But,  first,  let  us  inquire  who  Mr.  MacGentle  is, 
besides  President  of  the  Beacon  Hill  Bank.  He  is 
a  man  of  refinement  and  cultivation,  a  scholar  and  a 
reader,  lias  travelled,  and,  it  is  said,  could  handle  a 
pen  to  better  purpose  than  the  signing  bank-notes. 
In  his  earlier  years  he  studied  law,  and  gained  a  cer 
tain  degree  of  distinction  in  the  profession,  although 
(owing,  perhaps,  to  his  having  entered  it  with  too  ideal 
and  high-strung  views  as  to  its  nature  and  scope)  he 
never  met  with  what  is  vulgarly  called  success.  For 
tunately  for  the  ideal  barrister,  an  ample  private  estate 
made  him  independent  of  professional  earnings.  Later 
in  life,  he  trod  the  confines  of  politics,  still,  however, 
enveloping  himself  in  that  theoretical,  unpractical  at 
mosphere  which  was  his  most  marked,  and,  to  some 
people,  least  comprehensible  characteristic.  A  certain 
mild  halo  of  statesmanship  ever  after  invested  him; 
not  that  he  had  at  any  time  actually  borne  a  share 
in  the  government  of  the  nation,  but  it  was  under 
stood  that  he  might  have  done  so,  had  he  so  chosen, 
or  had  his  political  principles  been  tough  and  elastic 
enough  to  endure  the  wear  and  strain  of  action.  As 
it  was,  some  of  the  most  renowned  men  in  the  Senate 


A   BRAHMAN.  45 

were  known  to  have  been  his  intimates  at  college,  and 

he  still  met  and   conversed  with  them  on  terms  of 

equality. 

Between  law,  literature,  and  statesmanship,  in  all 
of  which  pursuits  he  had  acquired  respect  and  good 
will,  without  actually  accomplishing  anything,  Mr. 
MacGentle  fell,  no  one  knew  exactly  how,  into  the 
presidential  chair  of  the  Beacon  Hill  Bank.  As  soon 
as  he  was  there,  everybody  saw  that  there  he  belonged. 
His  social  position,  his  culture,  his  honorable,  albeit 
intangible  record,  suited  the  old  bank  well.  He  had 
an  air  of  subdued  wisdom,  and  people  were  fond  of 
appealing  to  his  judgment  and  asking  his  advice, — 
perhaps  because  he  never  seemed  to  expect  them  to 
follow  it  when  given  (as,  indeed,  they  never  did).  The 
Board  of  Directors  looked  up  to  him,  deferred  to  him, 

-  nay,  believed  him  to  be  as  necessary  to  the  bank's 
existence  as  the  entire  aggregate  of  its  supporters  ;  but 
neither  the  Board  nor  the  President  himself  ever 
dreamed  of  adopting  Mr.  MacGentle's  financial  theo 
ries  in  the  conduct  of  the  banking  business. 

Let  no  one  hastily  infer  that  the  accomplished  gen 
tleman  of  whom  we  speak  was  in  any  sense  a  sham. 
No  one  could  be  more  true  to  himself  and  his  pro 
fessions.  But  —  if  we  may  hazard  a  conjecture  —  he 
never  breathed  the  air  that  other  men  breathe;  an 
other  sun  than  ours  shone  for  him;  the  world  that 


46  IDOLATRY. 

met  his  senses  was  not  our  world.  His  life,  in  short, 
was  not  human  life,  yet  so  closely  like  it  that  the 
two  might  be  said  to  correspond,  as  a  face  to  its 
reflection  in  the  mirror;  actual  contact  being  in  both 
cases  impossible.  No  doubt  the  world  and  he  knew 
of  the  barrier  between  them,  though  neither  said  so. 
The  former,  with  its  usual  happy  temperament,  was 
little  affected  by  the  separation,  smiled  good-naturedly 
upon  the  latter,  and  never  troubled  itself  about  the 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  shaking  hands.  But  Mr. 
MacGentle,  being  only  a  single  man,  perhaps  felt 
lonely  and  sad.  Either  he  was  a  ghost,  or  the  world 
was.  In  youth,  he  may  have  believed  himself  to  be 
the  only  real  flesh  and  blood ;  but  in  later  years,  the 
terrible  weight  of  the  wrorld's  majority  forced  him  to 
the  opposite  conclusion.  And  here,  at  last,  he  and  the 
world  were  at  one ! 

Suppose,  instead  of  listening  to  a  personal  descrip 
tion  of  this  good  old  gentleman,  we  take  a  look  at  him 
with  our  own  eyes.  There  is  no  danger  of  disturbing 
him,  no  matter  how  busy  he  may  be.  The  inner 
retreat  is  very  small,  and  as  neat  as  though  an  old 
maid  lived  in  it.  The  furniture  looks  as  good  as  new, 
but  is  subdued  to  a  tone  of  sober  maturity,  and  chimes 
in  so  well  with  the  general  effect  that  one  scarcely 
notices  it.  The  polished  table  is  mounted  in  dark 
morocco ;  behind  the  horsehair-covered  arm-chair  is  a 


A   BRAHMAN.  47 

gray  marble  mantel-piece,  overshadowing  an  open  grate 
with  polished  bars  and  fire-utensils  in  the  English 
style.  During  the  winter  months  a  lump  of  cannel- 
coal  is  always  burning  there ;  but  the  flame,  even  on 
the  coldest  days,  is  too  much  on  its  good  behavior  to 
give  out  very  decided  heat.  Over  the  mantel-piece 
hangs  a  crayon  copy  of  Correggio's  Eeading  Magda 
len,  —  the  only  touch  of  sentiment  in  the  whole  room, 
and  that,  perhaps,  accidental. 

The  concrete  nature  of  the  President's  surroundings 
is  at  first  perplexing,  in  view  of  our  theory  about  his 
character.  But  it  is  evident  that  the  world  could 
never  provide  him  with  furniture  corresponding  to  the 
texture  of  his  mind ;  and  hence  he  would  instinctively 
lay  hold  of  that  which  was  most  commonplace  and 
non-committal.  If  he  could  realize  nothing  outside 
himself,  he  might  at  least  remove  whatever  would  dis 
tract  him  from  inward  contemplation.  There  is,  how 
ever,  one  article  in  this  little  room  which  we  must  not 
omit  to  notice.  It  is  a  looking-glass ;  and  it  hangs, 
of  all  places  in  the  world,  right  over  Mr.  MacGen- 
tle's  standing-desk,  in  the  embrasure  of  the  window. 
As  often  as  he  looks  up  he  beholds  the  reflection  of  his 
cultured  and  sad-lined  physiognomy,  with  a  glimpse  of 
dusky  wall  beyond.  Is  he  a  vain  man?  His  worst 
enemy,  had  he  one,  would  not  call  him  that.  Never 
theless,  Mr.  MacGentle  finds  a  pathetic  comfort  in  this 


48  IDOLATRY. 

small  mirror.  No  one,  not  even  lie,  could  tell  where 
fore  ;  but  we  fancy  it  to  be  like  that  an  exile  feels, 
seeing  a  picture  of  his  birthplace,  or  hearing  a  strain 
of  his  native  music.  The  mirror  shows  him  something 
more  real,  to  his  sense,  than  is  anything  outside  of  it ! 

Well,  there  stands  the  old  gentleman,  writing  at  this 
desk  in  the  window.  All  men,  they  say,  bear  more  or 
less  resemblance  to  some  animal;  Mr.  MacGentle, 
rather  tall  and  slender,  with  his  slight  stoop,  and  his 
black  broadcloth  frock-coat  buttoned  closely  about  his 
waist,  brings  to  mind  a  cultivated,  grandfatherly  grey 
hound,  upon  his  hind  legs.  He  has  thick  white  hair, 
with  a  gentle  curl  in  it,  growing  all  over  his  finely 
moulded  head.  He  is  close-shaven  ;  his  mouth  and 
nose  are  formed  with  great  delicacy ;  his  eyes,  now 
somewhat  faded,  yet  show  an  occasional  reminiscence 
of  youthful  fire.  The  eyebrows  are  habitually  lifted,  — 
a  result,  possibly,  of  the  growing  infirmity  of  Mr.  Mac- 
Gentle's  vision ;  but  it  produces  an  expression  of  half- 
plaintive  resignation,  which  is  rendered  pathetic  by  the 
wrinkles  across  his  forehead  and  the  dejected  lines 
about  his  delicate  mouth. 

He  is  dressed  with  faultless  nicety  and  elegance, 
though  in  a  fashion  now  out  of  date.  Perhaps,  in 
graceful  recognition  of  the  advance  of  age,  he  has 
adhered  to  the  style  in  vogue  when  age  first  began  to 
weigh  upon  his  shoulders.  He  gazes  mildly  out  from 


A  BRAHMAN.  49 

the  embrasure  of  an  upright  collar  and  tall  stock ; 
below  spreads  a  wide  expanse  of  spotless  shirt-front. 
His  trousers  are  always  gray,  except  in  the  heat  of 
summer,  when  they  become  snowy  white.  They  are 
uniformly  too  long ;  yet  he  never  dispenses  with  his 
straps,  nor  with  the  gaiters  that  crown  his  gentlemanly 
shoes. 

Although  not  a  stimulating  companion,  one  loves 
to  be  where  Amos  MacGentle  is ;  to  watch  his  quiet 
movements,  and  listen  to  his  meditative  talk.  What 
he  says  generally  bears  the  stamp  of  thought  and 
intellectual  capacity,  and  at  first  strikes  the  listener 
as  rare  good  sense ;  yet,  if  reconsidered  afterwards,  or 
applied  to  the  practical  tests  of  life,  his  wisdom  is  apt 
to  fall  mysteriously  short.  Is  Mr.  MacGentle  aware 
of  this  curious  fact  ?  There  sometimes  is  a  sadly 
humorous  curving  of  the  lips  and  glimmering  in  the 
eyes  after  he  has  uttered  something  especially  pro 
found,  which  almost  warrants  the  suspicion.  The  lack 
of  accord  between  the  old  gentleman  and  the  world 
has  become  to  him,  at  last,  a  dreary  sort  of  jest. 

But  we  might  go  on  forever  touching  the  elusive 
chords  of  Mr.  MacGentle's  being ;  one  cannot  help 
loving  him,  or,  if  he  be  not  real  enough  to  love,  be 
stowing  upon  him  such  affection  as  is  inspired  by  some 
gentle  symphony.  Unfortunately,  he  figures  but  little 
in  the  coming  pages,  and  in  no  active  part ;  such, 

3  D 


50  IDOLATEY. 

indeed,  were  unsuited  to  him.  But  it  is  pleasant  to 
pass  through  his  retired  little  office  on  our  way  to 
scenes  less  peaceful  and  subdued ;  and  we  would 
gladly  look  forward  to  seeing  him  once  more,  when  the 
heat  of  the  day  is  over  and  the  sun  has  gone  down. 


V. 

A  NEW  MAN  WITH  AN  OLD   FACE. 

ABOUT  an  hour  before  noon  on  this  same  twenty- 
seventh  of  May,  Mr.  Dyke  heard  a  voice  in  the 
outer  room.  He  had  held  his  position  in  the  house  as 
confidential  clerk  for  nearly  or  quite  twenty-five  years, 
was  blessed  with  a  good  memory,  and  was  fond  of 
saying  that  he  never  forgot  a  face  or  a  voice.  So,  as 
this  voice  from  the  outer  room  reached  his  ears,  he 
turned  one  eye  up  towards  the  door  and  muttered, 
"  Heard  that  before,  somewhere  ! " 

The  ground-glass  panel  darkened,  and  the  door  was 
thrown  wide  open.  Upon  the  threshold  stood  a  young 
man  about  six  feet  in  height,  of  figure  rather  graceful 
and  harmonious  than  massive.  A  black  velveteen 
jacket  fitted  closely  to  his  shape ;  he  had  on  a  Tyr- 
olese  hat ;  his  boots,  of  thin,  pliant  leather,  reached 
above  the  knee.  He  carried  a  stout  cane,  with  a 
handle  of  chamois-horn ;  to  a  couple  of  straps,  cross 
ing  each  shoulder,  were  attached  a  travelling-scrip  and 
a  telescope-case. 

But  neither  his  attire  nor  the  unusual  size  and  dark 


52  IDOLATRY. 

brilliancy  of  his  eyes  was  so  noticeable  as  his  hair  and 
beard,  which  outgrew  the  bounds  of  common  experi 
ence.  Beards,  to  be  sure,  were  far  more  rare  twenty 
years  ago  than  they  have  since  become.  The  hair  was 
yellow,  with  the  true  hyacinthine  curl  pervading  it. 
Eejoicing  in  luxuriant  might,  it  clothed  and  reclothed 
the  head,  and,  descending  lower,  tumbled  itself  in  bold 
masses  on  the  young  man's  shoulders.  As  for  the 
beard,  it  was  well  in  keeping.  Of  a  purer  yellow 
than  the  hair,  it  twisted  down  in  crisp,  vigorous  waves 
below  the  point  marked  by  mankind's  third  shirt-stud. 
It  was  full  half  as  broad  as  it  was  long,  and  lay  to  the 
right  and  left  from  the  centre-line  of  the  face.  The 
owner  of  this  oriflamme  looked  like  a  young  Scandi 
navian  god. 

There  seems  to  be  a  deeper  significance  in  hair  than 
meets  the  eye.  Sons  of  Esau,  whose  beards  grow  high 
up  on  their  cheek-bones,  who  are  hairy  down  to  their 
ankles,  and  to  the  second  joints  of  their  fingers,  are 
generally  men  of  a  kindly  and  charitable  nature,  strong 
in  what  we  call  the  human  element.  One  remembers 
their  stout  hand-grip ;  they  look  frankly  in  one's  face^ 
and  the  heart  is  apt  to  go  out  to  them  more  sponta 
neously  than  to  the  smooth-faced  Jacobs.  Such  a  man 
was  Samson,  whose  hair  was  his  strength,  —  the 
strength  of  inborn  truth  and  goodness,  whereby  he 
was  enabled  to  smite  the  lying  Philistines.  And  al- 


A  NEW  MAN  WITH  AN  OLD  FACE.  53 

though  they  once,  by  their  sophistries,  managed  to  get 
the  better  of  him  for  a  while,  they  forgot  that  good 
inborn  is  too  vigorous  a  matter  for  any  mere  razor 
finally  to  subdue.  See,  again,  what  a  great  beard  Saint 
Paul  had,  and  what  an  outspoken,  vigorous  heart ! 
Was  it  from  freak  that  Greeks  and  Easterns  reverenced 
beards  as  symbols  of  manhood,  dignity,  and  wisdom? 
or  that  Christian  Fathers  thundered  against  the  barber, 
as  a  violator  of  divine  law  ?  No  one,  surely,  could 
accuse  that  handy,  oily,  easy  little  personage  of  evil 
intent ;  but  he  symbolized  the  subtile  principle  which 
pares  away  the  natural  virtue  of  man,  and  substitutes 
an  artificial  polish,  which  is  hypocrisy.  It  is  to  be 
observed,  however,  that  hair  can  be  representative  of 
natural  evil  as  well  as  of  good.  A  tangle-headed  bush 
ranger  does  not  win  our  sympathies.  A  Mussulman 
keeps  his  beard  religiously  clean. 

Meanwhile  the  yellow-haired  Scandinavian,  whom 
we  have  already  laid  under  the  imputation  of  being  a 
clandy,  stood  on  the  threshold  of  Mr.  Dyke's  office,  and 
that  gentleman  confronted  him  with  a  singularly  in 
quisitive  stare.  The  visitor's  face  was  a  striking  one, 
but  can  be  described,  for  the  present,  only  in  general 
terms.  He  might  not  be  called  handsome ;  yet  a  very 
handsome  man  would  be  apt  to  appear  insignificant 
beside  him.  His  features  showed  strength,  and  were 
at  the  same  time  cleanly  and  finely  cut  There  was 


54  IDOLATEY. 

freedom  in  the  arch  of  his  eyebrows,  and  plenty  of 
eye-room  beneath  them. 

He  took  off  his  hat  to  Mr.  Dyke,  and  smiled  at  him 
with  artless  superiority,  insomuch  that  the  elderly 
clerk's  sixty  years  were  disconcerted,  and  the  Cerberus 
seemed  to  dwindle  into  the  bumpkin !  This  young 
fell6w,  a  good  deal  less  than  half  Mr.  Dyke's  age,  was 
yet  a  far  older  man  of  the  world  than  he.  Not  that 
his  appearance  suggested  the  kind  of  maturity  which 
results  from  abnormal  or  distorted  development,  —  on 
the  contrary,  he  was  thoroughly  genial  and  healthful. 
But  that  power  and  assurance  of  eye  and  lip,  generally 
bought  only  at  the  price  of  many  years'  buffetings, 
given  and  taken,  were  here  married  to  the  first  flush 
and  vigor  of  young  manhood. 

"  My  name  is  Helwyse ;  I  have  come  from  Europe 
to  see  Mr.  Amos  MacGentle,"  said  the  visitor,  cour 
teously. 

"  Helwyse  !  —  Hel  —  "  repeated  Mr.  Dyke,  having 
seemingly  quite  forgotten  himself.  His  customary 
manner  to  strangers  implied  that  he  knew,  better  than 
they  did,  who  they  were  and  what  they  wanted ;  and 
that  what  he  knew  was  not  much  to  their  credit.  But 
he  could  only  open  his  mouth  and  stare  at  this  Hel 
wyse. 

"Mr.  MacGentle  is  an  old  friend;  run  in  and  tell 
him  I  'm  here,  and  you  will  see."  The  young  man  put 


A  NEW   MAN  WITH   AN   OLD   FACE.  55 

his  hand  kindly  on  the  elderly  clerk's  shoulder,  much 
as  though  the  latter  were  a  gaping  school-boy,  and 
directed  him  gently  towards  the  inner  door. 

Mr.  Dyke  regained  his  voice  by  an  effort,  though 
still  lacking  complete  self-command.  "  I  beg  your  par 
don,  Mr.  Helwyse,  sir,  —  of  course,  of  course,  —  it 
did  n't  seem  possible,  —  so  long,  you  know,  —  but  I 
remembered  the  voice  and  the  face  and  the  name,  —  I 
never  forget,  —  but,  by  George,  sir,  can  you  really 
be  —  ?  " 

"  I  see  you  have  a  good  memory ;  you  are  Dyke, 
are  n't  you  ? "  And  Mr.  Helwyse  threw  back  his  head 
and  laughed,  perhaps  at  the  clerk's  bewildered  face. 
At  all  events,  the  latter  laughed,  too,  and  they  both 
shook  hands  very  heartily. 

"  Beg  pardon  again,  Mr.  Helwyse,  I  '11  speak  to  the 
President,"  said  Mr.  Dyke,  and  stepped  into  the  sanc 
tuary  of  sanctuaries. 

Mr.  MacGentle  was  taking  a  nap.  He  was  seventy 
years  old,  and  could  drop  asleep  easily.  When  he 
slept,  however  lightly  and  briefly,  he  was  pretty 
sure  to  dream ;  and  if  awakened  suddenly,  his  dream 
would  often  prolong  itself,  and  mingle  with  passing 
events,  which  would  themselves  put  on  the  semblance 
of  unreality.  On  the  present  occasion  the  sound  of 
Helwyse's  voice  had  probably  crept  through  the  door, 
and  insinuated  itself  into  his  dreaming  brain. 


56  IDOLATRY. 

Mr.  Dyke  was  too  much  excited  to  remark  the  Presi 
dent's  condition.  He  put  his  mouth  close  to  the  old 
gentleman's  ear,  and  said,  in  an  emphatic  and  pene 
trating  undertone, — 

"  Here's  your  old  friend  Helwyse,  who  died  in  Europe 
two  years  ago,  come  back  again,  younger  than  ever  I " 

If  the  confidential  clerk  expected  his  superior  to 
echo  his  own  bewilderment,  he  was  disappointed.  Mr. 
MacGentle  unclosed  his  eyes,  looked  up,  and  answered 
rather  pettishly,  — 

"What  nonsense  are  you  talking  about  his  dying  in 
Europe,  Mr.  Dyke  ?  He  has  n't  been  in  Europe  for  six 
years.  I  was  expecting  him.  Let  him  come  in  at  once." 

But  he  was  already  there;  and  Mr.  Dyke  slipped 
out  again  with  consternation  wrritten  upon  his  features. 
Mr.  MacGentle  found  himself  with  his  thin  old  hand 
in  the  young  man's  warm  grasp. 

"  Helwyse,  how  do  you  do  ?  —  how  do  you  do  ?  Ah  ! 
you  look  as  well  as  ever.  I  was  just  thinking  about 
you.  Sit  down,  —  sit  down ! " 

The  old  President's  voice  had  a  strain  of  melancholy 
in  it,  partly  the  result  of  chronic  asthma,  and  partly, 
no  doubt,  of  a  melancholic  temperament.  This  strain, 
being  constant,  sometimes  had  a  curiously  incongruous 
effect  as  contrasted  with  the  subject  or  circumstances 
in  hand.  Whether  hailing  the  dawn  of  the  millennium, 
holding  playful  converse  with  a  child,  making  a  speech 


A  NEW   MAN  WITH  AN   OLD   FACE.  57 

before  the  Board,  —  under  whatever  rhetorical  condi 
tions,  Mr.  MacGentle's  intonation  was  always  pitched 
in  the  same  murmurous  and  somewhat  plaintive  key. 
Moreover,  a  corresponding  immobility  of  facial  expres 
sion  had  grown  upon  him  ;  so  that  altogether,  though 
he  was  the  most  sympathetic  and  sensitive  of  men,  a 
superficial  observer  might  take  him  to  be  lacking  in 
the  common  feelings  arid  impulses  of  humanity. 

Perhaps  the  incongruity  alluded  to  had  not  alto 
gether  escaped  his  own  notice,  and  since  discord  of  any 
kind  pained  him,  he  had  mended  the  matter  —  as  best 
he  could  — by  surrendering  himself  entirely  to  his 
mournful  voice;  allowing  it  to  master  his  gestures, 
choice  of  language,  almost  his  thoughts.  The  result 
was  a  colorlessness  of  manner  which  did  great  injustice 
to  the  gentle  and  delicate  soul  behind. 

This  conjecture  might  explain  why  Mr.  MacGentle, 
instead  of  falling  upon  his  friend's  neck  and  sheddino- 

o 

tears  of  welcome  there,  only  uttered  a  few  common 
place  sentences,  and  then  drooped  back  into  his  chair. 
But  it  throws  no  light  upon  his  remark  that  he  had 
been  expecting  the  arrival  of  a  friend  who,  it  would 
appear,  had  been  dead  two  years.  Helwyse  himself 
may  have  been  puzzled  by  this  ;  or,  being  a  quick 
witted  young  man,  he  may  have  divined  its  explana 
tion.  He  looked  at  his  entertainer  with  critical  sym 
pathy  not  untinged  with  humor. 

3* 


58  IDOL  ATE  Y. 

"  I  hope  you  are  as  well  as  I  am,"  said  he. 

"  A  little  tired  this  morning,  I  believe ;  I  never  was 
so  strong  a  man  as  you,  Helwyse.  I  think  I  must  have 
passed  a  bad  night.  I  remember  dreaming  I  was  an 
old  man,  —  an  old  man  witli  white  hair,  Helwyse." 

"Were  you  glad  to  wake  up  again  ?"  asked  the  young 
man,  meeting  the  elder's  faded  eyes. 

"  I  hardly  know  whether  I  'm  quite  awake  yet.  And, 
after  all,  Thor,  I  'm  not  sure  that  I  don't  wish  the 
dream  might  have  been  true.  If  I  were  really  an  old 
man,  what  a  long,  lonely  future  I  should  escape  !  but 
as  it  is  —  as  it  is  —  " 

He  relapsed  into  reverie.  Ah  !  Mr.  MacGentle,  are 
you  again  the  tall  and  graceful  youth,  full  of  romance 
and  fire,  who  roamed  abroad  in  quest  of  adventures 
with  your  trusty  friend  Thor  Helwyse,  the  yellow- 
bearded  Scandinavian  ?  Do  you  fancy  this  fresh,  un- 
wrinkled  face  a  mate  to  your  own  ?  and  is  it  but  the 
vision  of  a  restless  night,  —  this  long-drawn  life  of  dull 
routine  and  gradual  disappointment  and  decay  ?  Open 
those  dim  eyes  of  yours,  good  sir !  stir  those  thin  old 
legs  !  inflate  that  sunken  chest !  —  Ha !  is  that  cough 
imaginary  ?  those  trembling  muscles,  —  are  they  a  de 
lusion  ?  is  that  misty  glance  only  a  momentary  weak 
ness  ?  There  is  no  youth  left  in  you,  Mr.  MacGentle ; 
not  so  much  as  would  keep  a  rose  in  bloom  for  an 
hour. 


A  NEW  MAN  WITH  AN   OLD   FACE.  59 

"Have  you  seen  Doctor  Glyphic  lately?"  inquired 
Helwyse,  after  a  pause. 

"  Glyphic  ?  —  do  you  know,  I  was  thinking  of  him 
just  now,  —  of  our  first  meeting  with  him  in  the  Afri 
can  desert.  You  remember  !  —  a  couple  of  Bedouins 
were  carrying  him  off,  —  they  had  captured  him  on  his 
way  to  some  apocryphal  ruin  among  the  sand-heaps. 
What  a  grand  moment  was  that  when  you  caught  the 
Sheik  round  the  throat  with  your  umbrella-handle,  and 
pulled  him  off  his  horse !  and  then  we  mounted  poor 
Glyphic  upon  it,  —  mummied  cat  and  all,  —  and  away 
over  the  hot  sand !  What  a  day  was  that !  what  a  day 
was  that ! " 

The  speaker's  eyes  had  kindled;  for  a  moment  one 
saw  the  far  flat  desert,  the  struggling  knot  of  men  and 
horses,  the  stampede  of  the  three  across  the  plain,  and 
the  high  sun  naming  inextinguishable  laughter  over 
all !  —  and  it  had  happened  nigh  forty  years  ago. 

"  He  never  forgot  that  service,"  resumed  Mr.  Mac- 
Gentle,  his  customary  plaintive  manner  returning. 
"To  that,  and  to  your  saving  the  Egyptian  lad, — . 
Manetho,  —  you  owe  your  wife  Helen  :  ah  !  forgive 
me,  —  I  had  forgotten  ;  she  is  dead,  —  she  is  dead." 

"I  never  could  understand,"  remarked  Helwyse, 
aiming  to  lead  the  conversation  away  from  gloomy 
topics,  "  why  the  Doctor  made  so  much  of  Manetho." 

"  That  was  only  a  part  of  the  Egyptian  mania  that 


60  IDOLATRY. 

possessed  him,  and  began,  you  know,  with  his  changing 
his  name  from  Henry  to  Hiero ;  and  has  gone  on, 
until  now,  I  suppose,  he  actually  believes  himself  to 
be  some  old  inscription,  containing  precious  secrets, 
not  to  be  found  elsewhere.  Before  the  adventure  with 
the  boy,  I  remember,  he  had  formed  the  idea  of  build 
ing  a  miniature  Egypt  in  New  Jersey  ;  and  Manetho 
served  well  as  the  living  human  element  in  it. 
'Though  I  take  him  to  America/  you  know  he  said, 
'  he  shall  live  in  Egypt  still.  He  shall  have  a  temple, 
and  an  altar,  and  Isis  and  Osiris,  and  papyri  and  palm- 
trees  and  a  crocodile  ;  and  when  he  dies  I  will  embalm 
him  like  a  Pharaoh.'  '  But  suppose  you  die  first  ? ' 
said  one  of  us.  '  Then  he  shall  embalm  me  ! '  cried 
Hiero,  and  I  will  be  the  first  American  mummy.'" 

Mr.  MacGentle  seemed  to  find  a  dreamy  enjoyment 
in  working  this  vein  of  reminiscence.  He  sat  back  in 
his  low  arm-chair,  his  unsubstantial  face  turned  medi 
tatively  towards  the  Magdalen,  his  hands  brought 
together  to  support  his  delicate  chin.  Helwyse,  appre 
hending  that  the  vein  might  at  last  bring  the  dreamer 
down  to  the  present  clay,  encouraged  him  to  follow  it. 

"  It  must  have  been  a  disappointment  to  the  Doctor 
that  his  protege  took  up  the  Christian  religion,  instead 
of  following  the  faith  and  observances  of  his  Egyptian 
ancestors,  for  the  last  five  thousand  years  ! " 

"Why,  perhaps  it  was,  Thor,  perhaps  it  was,"  mur- 


A  NEW  MAN  WITH  AN  OLD   FACE.  61 

mured  Mr.  MacGentle.  "  But  Manetho  never  entered 
the  pulpit,  you  know ;  it  would  not  have  been  to  his 
interest  to  do  so ;  besides  that,  I  believe  he  is  really 
devoted  to  Glypliic,  believing  that  it  was  he  who  saved 
him  from  the  crocodile.  People  are  all  the  time  mak 
ing  such  absurd  mistakes.  Manetho  is  a  man  who 
would  be  unalterable  either  ^in  gratitude  or  enmity, 
although  his  external  manner  is  so  mild.  And  as  to 
his  taking  orders,  why,  as  long  as  he  wore  an  Egyptian 
robe,  and  said  his  prayers  in  an  Egyptian  temple,  it 
would  be  all  the  same  to  Glypliic  what  religion  the 
man  professed ! " 

"  Doctor  Glyphic  is  still  alive,  then  ? " 
The  old  man  looked  at  the  young  one  with  an  air 
half  apprehensive,  half  perplexed,  as  if  scenting  the 
far  approach  of  some  undefined  difficulty.  He  passed 
his  white  hand  over  his  forehead.  "  Everything  seems 
out  of  joint  to-day,  Helwyse.  Nothing  looks  or  seems 
natural,  except  you  !  What  is  the  matter  with  me  ?  — 
what  is  the  matter  with  me  ? " 

Helwyse  sat  with  both  hands  twisted  in  his  mighty 
beard,  and  one  booted  leg  thrown  over  the  other.  He 
was  full  of  sympathy  at  the  spectacle  of  poor  Amos 
MacGentle,  blindly  groping  after  the  phantom  of  a 
flower  whose  bloom  and  fragrance  had  vanished  so 
terribly  long  ago  ;  and  yet,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
he  could  hardly  forbear  a  smile.  "When  anything  is 


C2  IDOLATRY. 

utterly  out  of  place,  it  is  no  more  pathetic  than  absurd ; 
moreover,  young  men  are  always  secretly  inclined  to 
laugh  at  old  ones ! 

"  Why  should  not  Glyphic  be  alive  ?  "  resumed  Mr. 
MacGentle.  "  Why  not  he,  as  well  as  you  or  I  ? 
Are  n't  we  all  about  of  an  age  ? " 

Helwyse  drew  his  chair  close  to  his  companion's, 
and  took  his  hand,  as  if  it  had  been  a  young  girl's. 
"  My  dear  friend,"  said  he,  "  you  said  you  felt  tired  this 
morning,  but  you  forget  how  far  you  've  travelled  since 
we  last  met.  Doctor  Glyphic,  if  he  be  living  now, 
must  be  more  than  sixty  years  old.  Your  dream  of 
old  age  was  such  as  many  have  dreamed  before,  and 
not  awakened  from  in  this  world ! " 

"  Let  me  think  !  —  let  me  think  ! "  said  the  old  man  ; 
and,  Helwyse  drawing  back,  there  ensued  a  silence, 
varied  only  by  a  long  and  tremulous  sigh  from  his 
companion  ;  whether  of  relief  or  dejection,  the  visitor 
could  not  decide.  But  when  Mr.  MacGentle  spoke,  it 
was  with  more  assurance.  Either  from  mortification  at 
his  illusion,  or  more  probably  from  imperfect  percep 
tion  of  it,  he  made  no  reference  to  what  had  passed. 
Old  age  possesses  a  kind  of  composure,  arising  from 
dulled  sensibilities,  which  the  most  self-possessed 
youth  can  never  rival. 

"  We  heard,  through  the  London  branch  of  our 
house,  that  Thor  Helwyse  died  some  two  years  ago." 


A  NEW  MAN  WITH  AN  OLD  FACE.  63 

"  He  was  drowned  in  the  Baltic  Sea.  I  am  his  son 
Balder." 

"  He  was  my  friend,"  observed  the  old  man,  simply ; 
but  the  tone  lie  used  was  a  magnet  to  attract  the  son's 
heart.  "  You  look  very  much  like  him,  only  his  eyes 
were  blue,  and  yours,  as  I  now  see,  are  dark ;  but  you 
might  be  mistaken  for  him." 

"I  sometimes  have  been,"  rejoined  Balder,  with  a 
half-smile. 

"  And  you  are  his  son  !  You  are  most  welcome  !  " 
said  Mr.  MacGentle,  with  old-fashioned  courtesy. 
"  Forgive  me  if  I  have  —  if  anything  has  occurred  to 
annoy  you.  I  am  a  very  old  man,  Mr.  Balder  ;  so  old 
that  sometimes  I  believe  I  forget  how  old  I  am !  And 
Thor  is  dead,  —  drowned,  —  you  say  ? " 

"  The  Baltic,  you  know,  has  been  the  grave  of  many 
of  our  forefathers ;  I  think  my  father  was  glad  to  fol 
low  them.  I  never  saw  him  in  better  spirits  than  dur 
ing  that  gale.  We  were  bound  to  England  from  Den 
mark." 

"  Helen's  death  saddened  him,  —  I  know,  —  I  know  ; 
he  was  never  gay  after  that.  But  how  —  how  did  —  ? " 

"He  would  keep  the  deck,  though  the  helmsman 
had  to  be  lashed  to  the  wheel.  I  think  he  never  cared 
to  see  land  again,  but  he  was  full  of  spirits  and  life. 
He  said  this  was  weather  fit  for  a  Viking. 

"  We  were  standing  by  the  foremast,  holding  on  by  a 


64 '  IDOLATRY. 

belaying-pin.  The  sea  came  over  the  side,  and  struck 
him  overboard.  I  went  after  him.  Another  wave 
brought  me  back ;  but  not  my  father  !  I  was  knocked 
senseless,  and  when  I  came  to,  it  was  too  late." 

Helwyse's  voice,  towards  the  end  of  this  story,  be 
came  husky,  and  Mr.  MacGentle's  eyes,  as  he  listened, 
grew  dimmer  than  ever. 

"  Ah  ! "  said  he,  "  I  shall  not  die  so.  I  shall  die 
away  gradually,  like  a  breeze  that  has  been  blowing 
this  way  and  that  all  day,  and  falls  at  sunset,  no  one 
knows  how.  Thor  died  as  became  him  ;  and  I  shall 
die  as  becomes  me,  —  as  becomes  me  ! "  And  so,  in 
deed,  he  did,  a  few  years  later ;  but  not  unknown  nor 
uncared  for. 

Balder  Helwyse  was  a  philosopher,  no  doubt ;  but  it 
was  no  part  of  his  wisdom  to  be  indifferent  to  un 
strained  sympathy.  He  went  on  to  speak  further  of 
his  own  concerns,  —  a  thing  he  was  little  used  to  do. 

It  appeared  that,  from  the  time  he  first  crossed  the 
Atlantic,  being  then  about  four  years  old,  up  to  the  time 
he  had  recrossed  it,  a  few  weeks  ago,  he  had  been  jour 
neying  to  and  fro  over  the  Eastern  Hemisphere.  His 
father,  who,  as  well  as  himself,  was  American  by  birth, 
was  the  descendant  of  a  Danish  family  of  high  station 
and  antiquity,  and  inherited  the  restless  spirit  of  his 
ancestors.  In  the  course  of  his  early  wanderings  he 
had  fallen  in  with  MacGentle,  who,  though  somewhat 


A  NEW  MAN  WITH  AN  OLD  FACE.  65 

older  than  Plelwyse,  was  still  a  young  man ;  and  later 
these  two  had  encountered  Hiero  Glyphic.  About  fif 
teen  years  after  this  it  was  that  Thor  appeared  at 
Glyphic's  house  in  New  Jersey,  and  was  welcomed  by 
that  singular  man  as  a  brother;  and  here  he  fell  in 
love  with  Glyphic's  sister  Helen,  and  married  her. 
"With  her  he  received  a  large  fortune,  which  the  addi 
tion  of  his  own  made  great ;  and  at  Glyphic's  death, 
Thor  or  his  heirs  would  inherit  the  bulk  of  the  estate 
left  by  him. 

So  Thor,  being  then  in  the  first  prime  of  life,  was 
prepared  to  settle  down  and  become  domestic.  But 
the  sudden  death  of  his  wife,  and  the  subsequent  loss 
of  one  of  the  children  she  had  borne  him,  drove  him 
once  more  abroad,  with  his  baby  son,  never  again  to 
take  root,  or  to  return.  And  here  Balder's  story,  as 
told  by  him,  began.  He  seemed  to  have  matured 
very  early,  and  to  have  taken  hold  of  knowledge  in  all 
its  branches  like  a  Titan.  The  precise  age  at  which  he 
had  learned  all  that  European  schools  could  teach  him, 
it  is  not  necessary  to  specify ;  since  it  is  rather  with 
the  nature  of  his  mind  than  with  the  list  of  his  accom 
plishments  that  we  shall  have  to  do.  It  might  be 
possible,  by  tracing  his  connection  with  French,  or 
German,  or  English  philosophers,  to  make  shrewd 
guesses  at  the  qualities  of  his  own  creed ;  but  these 
will  perhaps  reveal  themselves  less  diffidently  under 
other  tests. 


G6  IDOLATRY. 

Tlie  last  four  or  five  years  of  his  life  Balder  had 
spent  in  acquiring  such  culture  as  schools  could  not 
give  him.  Where  he  went,  what  he  did  and  saw,  we 
shall  not  exercise  our  power  categorically  to  reveal ; 
remarking  only  that  his  means  and  his  social  rank  left 
him  free  to  go  as  high  as  well  as  low  as  he  pleased,  — 
to  dine  with  English  dukes  or  with  Russian  serfs.  But 
a  fine  chastity  inherent  in  his  Northern  hlood  had, 
whatever  were  his  moral  convictions,  kept  him  from 
the  mire  ;  and  the  sudden  death  of  his  father  had  given 
him  a  graver  turn  than  was  normal  to  his  years. 
Meanwhile,  the  financial  crash,  which  at  this  time  so 
largely  affected  Europe,  swallowed  up  the  greater  part 
of  Balder's  fortune ;  and  with  the  remnant  (about  a 
thousand  pounds  sterling),  and  a  potential  indepen 
dence  (in  the  shape  of  a  learned  profession)  in  his 
head,  he  sailed  for  Boston. 

"  I  knew  you  were  my  uncle  Hiero's  bankers,"  he 
added,  "  and  I  supposed  you  would  be  able  to  tell  me 
about  him.  He  is  my  only  living  relative." 

"  Why,  as  to  that,  I  believe  it  is  a  long  time  since 
the  house  has  had  anything  to  do  with  his  concerns," 
returned  the  venerable  President,  abstractedly  gazing 
at  Balder's  high  boots ;  "  but  I  '11  ask  Mr.  Dyke.  He 
remembers  everything." 

That  gentleman  (who  had  not  passed  an  easy  mo 
ment  since  Mr.  Helwyse's  arrival)  was  now  called  in, 


A  NEW  MAN  WITH  AN   OLD   FACE.  67 

and  his  suspense  regarding  the  mysterious  visitor  soon 
relieved.  In  respect  to  Doctor  Glyphic's  affair  he  was 
ready  and  explicit. 

"  No  dollar  of  his  money  has  been  through  our 
hands  since  winter  of  Eighteen  thirty-five  —  six,  Mr. 
Helwyse,  sir,  —  winter  following  your  and  your  re 
spected  father's  departure  for  foreign  parts,"  stated  Mr. 
Dyke,  straightening  his  mouth,  and  planting  his  fist  on 
his  hip. 

"  Hm  —  hm  ! "  murmured  the  President,  standing 
thin  and  bent  before  the  empty  fireplace,  a  coat-tail 
over  each  arm. 

"  You  have  heard  nothing  of  him  since  then  ? " 

"  Nothing,  Mr.  Helwyse,  sir  !  Eeverend  Manetho 
Glyphic  —  understood  to  be  the  Doctor's  adopted  son 
—  came  here  and  effected  the  transfer,  under  authority, 
of  course,  of  his  foster-father's  signature.  Where  the 
property  is  at  this  moment,  how  invested,  with  what 
returns,  neither  the  President  nor  I  can  inform  you, 
sir." 

"  Hm  —  hm  !  "  remarked  Mr.  MacGentle  again.  It 
was  a  favorite  comment  of  his  upon  business  topics. 

"  It  is  possible  I  may  be  a  very  wealthy  man,"  said 
Balder,  when  Mr.  Dyke  had  made  his  resolute  bow  and 
withdrawn.  "  But  I  hope  my  uncle  is  alive.  It  would 
be  a  loss  not  to  have  known  so  eccentric  a  man.  I 
have  a  miniature  of  him  which  I  have  often  studied, 


68  IDOLATRY. 

so  that  I  shall  know  him  when  we  meet.  Can  he  be 
married,  do  you  think  ? " 

"  Why  no,  Balder ;  no,  I  should  hardly  think  so," 
answered  Mr.  MacGentle,  who,  at  the  departure  of 
his  confidential  clerk,  had  relapsed  into  his  unofficial 
position  and  manner.  "  By  the  way,  do  you  contem 
plate  that  step?" 

"It  is  said  to  be  an  impediment  to  great  enter 
prises.  I  could  learn  little  by  domestic  life  that  I 
could  not  learn  better  otherwise." 

"  Hm,  —  we  could  not  do  without  woman,  you 
know." 

"  If  I  could  marry  Woman,  I  would  do  it,"  said  the 
young  man,  unblushingly.  "  But  a  single  crumb  from 
that  great  loaf  would  be  of  no  use  to  me." 

"  Ah,  you  have  n't  learned  to  appreciate  women  ! 
You  never  knew  your  mother,  Balder ;  and  your  sister 
was  lost  before  she  was  old  enough  to  be  anything 
to  you.  By  the  way,  I  have  always  cherished  a  hope 
that  she  might  yet  be  found.  Perhaps  she  may, — 
perhaps  she  may." 

Balder  looked  perplexed,  till,  thinking  the  old  gen 
tleman  might  be  referring  to  a  reunion  in  a  future 
state,  he  said, — 

"  You  believe  that  people  recognize  one  another  in 
the  next  world,  Mr.  MacGentle  ? " 

"Perhaps,  —  perhaps;  but  why  not  here  as  well?" 


A  NEW   MAN  WITH  AN   OLD   FACE.  69 

murmured  the  other,  in  reply ;  and  Balder,  suspecting 
a  return  of  absent-mindedness,  yielded  the  point.  He 
had  grown  up  in  the  belief  that  his  twin-sister  had 
died  in  her  infancy ;  but  his  venerable  friend  appeared 
to  be  under  a  different  impression. 

"  I  shall  go  to  New  York,  and  try  to  find  my  uncle, 
or  some  trace  of  him,"  said  he.  "  If  I  'm  unsuccessful, 
I  mean  to  come  back  here,  and  settle  as  a  physician." 

"  What  is  your  specialty  ? " 

"  I  'm  an  eye-doctor.  The  Boston  people  are  not 
all  clear-eyed,  I  hope." 

"  Not  all,  —  I  should  say  not  all ;  perhaps  you  may 
be  able  to  help  me,  to  begin  with,"  said  Mr.  MacGentle, 
with  a  gleam  of  melancholy  humor.  "  I  will  ask  Mr. 
Dyke  about  the  chances  for  a  practice ;  he  knows 
everything.  And,  Balder,"  he  added,  when  the  young 
man  rose  to  go,  "  let  me  hear  from  you,  and  see  you 
again  sometimes,  whatever  may  happen  to  you  in  the 
way  of  fortune.  I  'm  rather  a  lonely  old  man,  —  a 
lonely  old  man,  Balder." 

"  I  '11  be  here  again  very  soon,  —  unless  I  get  mar 
ried,  or  commit  a  murder  or  some  such  enormity," 
rejoined  Helwyse,  his  long  mustache  curving  to  his 
smile.  They  shook  hands,  —  the  vigorous  young  god 
of  the  sun  and  the  faded  old  wraith  of  Brahmanism,  — 
with  a  friendly  look  into  each  other's  eyes. 


VI. 

THE  YAGAEIES   OF  HELWYSE. 

BALDEE  HELWYSE  was  a  man  full  of  natural 
and  healthy  instincts  :  he  was  not  afraid  to  laugh 
uproariously  when  so  inclined ;  nor  apt  to  counterfeit 
so  much  as  a  smile,  only  because  a  smile  would  look 
well.  What  showed  a  rarer  audacity,  —  he  had  more 
than  once  dared  to  weep  !  To  crush  down  real  emo 
tions  formed,  in  short,  no  part  of  his  ideal  of  a  man. 
Not  belonging  to  the  Little-pot-soon-hot  family,  he  had, 
perhaps,  never  found  occasion  to  go  beyond  the  control 
of  his  temper,  and  blind  rage  he  would  in  no  wise 
allow  himself;  but  he  delighted  in  antagonisms,  and 
though  it  came  not  within  his  rules  to  hate  any  man, 
he  was  inclined  to  cultivate  an  enemy,  as  more  likely 
to  be  instructive  than  some  friends.  His  love  of  actual 
battle  was  intense :  he  had  punched  heads  with  many 
a  hard-fisted  school-boy  in  England  ;  he  bore  the  scar 
of  a  German  schldgcr  high  up  on  his  forehead;  and 
later,  in  Paris,  he  had  deliberately  invaded  the  sus 
ceptibilities  of  a  French  journalist,  had  followed  him 
to  the  field  of  honor,  and  been  there  run  through  the 


THE    VAGARIES   OF  HELWYSE.  71 

body  with  a  small-sword,  to  the  satisfaction  of  both 
parties.  He  was  confined  to  his  bed  for  a  while ;  but 
his  overflowing  spirits  healed  the  wound,  to  the  ad 
miration  of  his  doctors. 

These  examples  of  self-indulgence  have  been  touched 
upon  only  by  way  of  preparing  the  gentle  reader  for  a 
shock  yet  more  serious.  Helwyse  was  a  disciple  of 
Brillat-Savarin,  —  in  one  word,  a  gourmand  !  His  ap 
petite  never  failed  him,  and  he  knew  how  wisely  to 
direct  it.  He  never  ate  a  careless  or  thoughtless  meal, 
be  its  elements  simple  as  they  might.  He  knew  and 
was  loved  by  the  foremost  cooks  all  over  Europe. 
Never  did  he  allow  coarseness  or  intemperance  to  mar 
the  refinement  of  his  palate. 

"  Man,"  he  was  accustomed  to  say,  "  is  but  a  stom 
ach,  and  the  cook  is  the  pope  of  stomachs,  in  whose 
church  are  no  respectable  heretics.  Our  happiness  lies 
in  his  saucepan,  —  at  the  mercy  of  his  spit!  Eating 
is  the  appropriation  to  our  needs  of  the  good  and  truth 
of  life,  as  existing  in  material  manifestation ;  the  cook 
is  the  high-priest  of  that  symbolic  ceremony  !  I,  and 
kings  with  me,  bow  before  him  !  But  his  is  a  respon 
sibility  beneath  which  Atlas  might  stagger ;  he,  of  all 
men,  must  be  honest,  warm-hearted,  quick  of  sym 
pathy,  full  of  compassion  towards  his  race.  Let  him 
rejoice,  for  the  world  extols  him  for  its  well-being;  — 
yet  tremble !  lest  upon  his  head  fall  the  curse  of  its 
misery ! " 


72  IDOLATRY. 

This  speecli  was  always  received  with  applause ;  the 
peroration  being  delivered  with  a  vast  controlled  em 
phasis  of  eye  and  voice ;  and  it  was  followed  by  the 
drinking  of  the  cook's  health.  "  The  generous  virtues," 
Mr.  Helwyse  would  then  go  on  to  say,  "  arise  from  the 
cultivation  of  the  stomach.  From  man's  very  earthli- 
ness  springs  the  flower  of  his  spiritual  virtue.  We 
affect  to  despise  the  flesh,  as  vile  and  unworthy.  What, 
then,  is  flesh  made  of  ?  of  nothing  ?  —  let  who  can, 
prove  that !  No,  it  is  made  of  spirit,  —  of  the  divine, 
everlasting  substance ;  it  is  the  wall  which  holds 
Heaven  in  place !  If  there  be  anything  vile  in  it,  it 
is  of  the  Devil's  infusion,  and  enters  not  into  the  argu 
ment." 

A  man  who  had  expressed  such  views  as  these  at 
the  most  renowned  tables  of  France  and  England  was 
not  likely  to  forget  his  principles  in  the  United  States. 
Accordingly,  he  arose  early,  as  we  have  seen,  on  the 
morning  after  his  arrival,  and  forced  an  astonished 
waiter  to  marshal  him  to  the  kitchen,  and  introduce 
him  to  the  cook.  The  cook  of  the  Granite  Hotel  at 
that  time  was  a  round,  red-lipped  Italian,  an  artist  and 
enthusiast,  but  whose  temper  had  been  much  tried  by 
lack  of  appreciation ;  and,  although  his  salary  was  good, 
lie  contemplated  throwing  it  over,  abandoning  the 
Yankee  nation  to  its  fate,  and  seeking  some  more 
congenial  field.  Balder,  who,  when  the  mood  was  on 


THE   VAGARIES   OF   HELWYSE.  73 

him,  could  wield  a  tongue  persuasive  as  Bichard  the 
Third's,  talked  to  this  man,  and  in  seven  minutes  had 
won  his  whole  heart.  The  -  immediate  result  was  a 
delectable  breakfast,  but  the  sequel  was  a  triumph 
indeed.  It  seems  that  the  aesthetic  Italian  had  for 
several  days  been  watching  over  a  brace  of  plump, 
truffled  partridges.  This  day  they  had  reached  perfec 
tion,  and  were  to  have  been  eaten  by  no  less  a  person 
than  the  cook  himself.  These  cherished  birds  did  he 
now  actually  offer  to  make  over  to  his  eloquent  and 
sympathetic  acquaintance.  Balder  was  deeply  moved, 
and  accepted  the  gift  on  one  condition,  —  that  the 
donor  should  share  the  feast !  "  When  a  man  serves 
me  up  his  own  heart,  —  truffled,  too,  —  he  must  help 
me  eat  it,"  he  said,  with  emotion.  The  condition  im 
posed  was,  after  faint  resistance,  agreed  to ;  the  other 
episodes  of  the  bill  of  fare  were  decided  upon,  and  the 
Italian  and  the  Scandinavian  .were  to  dine  together 
that  afternoon. 

It  still  lacked  something  of  the  dinner-hour  when 
Mr.  Helwyse  came  out  through  the  dark  passage 
way  of  the  Beacon  Hill  Bank,  and  paused  for  a  few 
moments  on  the  threshold,  looking  up  and  down  the 
street.  Against  the  dark  background  he  made  a 
handsome  picture,  —  tall,  gallant,  unique.  The  May 
sunshine,  falling  athwart  the  face  of  the  gloomy  old 
building,  was  glad  to  light  up  the  waves  of  his  beard 


74  IDOLATRY. 

and  hair,  and  to  cast  the  shadow  of  his  hat-brim  over 
his  forehead  and  eyes.  The  picture  stays  just  long 
enough  to  fix  itself  in  the  memory,  and  then  the 
young  man  goes  lightly  down  the  worn  steps,  and  is 
lost  along  the  crowded  street.  Such  as  he  is  now,  we 
shall  not  see  him  standing  in  that  dark  frame  again  ! 

Wherever  he  went,  Balder  Helwyse  was  sure  to  be 
stared  at;  but  to  this  he  was  admirably  indifferent. 
He  never  thought  of  speculating  about  what  people 
thought  of  Mr.  Helwyse  ;  but  to  his  own  approval  — 
something  not  lightly  to  be  had  —  he  was  by  no  means 
indifferent.  Towards  mankind  at  large  lie  showed  a 
kindly  but  irreverent  charity,  which  excused  imperfec 
tion,  not  so  much  from  a  divine  principle  of  love  as 
from  scepticism  as  to  man's  sufficient  motive  and 
faculty  to  do  well.  Of  himself  he  was  a  blunt  and 
sarcastic  critic,  perhaps  because  he  expected  more  of 
himself  than  of  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  fancied  that 
that  person  only  had  the  ability  to  be  his  censor ! 

If  the  Christian  reader  regards  this  mental  attitude 
as  unsound,  far  be  it  from  us  to  defend  it !  It  must, 
nevertheless,  be  admitted  that  whoever  feels  the  strong 
stirring  of  power  in  his  head  and  hands  will  learn  its 
limits  from  no  purely  subjective  source.  The  lesson 
must  begin  from  without,  and  the  only  argument  will 
be  a  deadly  struggle.  Until  then,  self-esteem,  however 
veiled  beneath  self-criticism,  cannot  but  increase.  And 


THE   VAGARIES    OF   HELWYSE.  75 

if  the  man  has  had  wisdom  and  strength  to  abstain 
from  vulgar  self-pollution,  Satan  must  intrust  his  spear 
to  no  half-fledged  devil,  but  grasp  it  in  his  own  hand, 
and  join  battle  in  his  own  person. 

Undismayed  by  this  fact,  Helwyse  reached  Wash 
ington  Street,  and  followed  its  westerly  meanderings, 
meaning  to  spend  part  of  the  interval  before  dinner 
in  exploring  Boston.  He  walked  with  an  easy  side 
ways-swaying  of  the  shoulders,  whisking  his  cane,  and 
smiling  to  himself  as  he  recalled  the  points  of  his 
interview  with  tbe  President. 

"  Just  the  thing,  to  make  MacGentle  tutelary  divin 
ity  of  so  elusive  a  matter  as  money  !  Wonder  whether 
the  Directors  ever  thought  of  that?  For  all  his  un 
reality,  though,  he  has  something  more  real  in  him 
than  the  heaviest  Director  on  the  Board ! 

"  How  composedly  he  took  me  for  my  father !  and 
when  he  discovered  his  mistake,  how  composedly  he 
welcomed  me  in  my  own  person !  Was  that  the 
extreme  of  senility  ?  or  was  it  a  subtile  assertion  of  the 
fact,  that  he  who  keeps  in  the  vanguard  of  the  age 
in  a  certain  sense  contains  his  father  —  the  past  — 
within  himself,  and  is  a  distinct  person  chiefly  by  vir 
tue  of  that  containing  power  ? 

"  Why  did  n't  I  ask  him  more  about  my  foster- 
cousin  Manetho  ?  Egyptians  are  more  astute  than 
affectionate.  Would  he  cleave  to  my  poor  uncle  for 


76  IDOLATRY. 

these  last  eighteen  years  merely  for  love  ?  Why  did 
he  transfer  that  money  so  soon  after  we  sailed  ?  Ten 
to  one,  he  has  in  his  own  hands  the  future  as  well  as 
the  present  disposal  of  Doctor  Hiero  Glyphic's  fortune  ! 
The  old  gentleman  has  had  time  to  make  a  hundred 
wills  since  the  one  he  showed  my  father,  twenty  years 


ago! 


"  Well,  and  what  is  that  to  you  ?  Ah,  Balder  Hel- 
wyse,  you  lazy  impostor,  you  are  pining  for  Egyptian 
flesh-pots !  Don't  tell  me  about  civility  to  relatives, 
and  the  study  of  human  nature !  You  are  as  bad  as 
you  accuse  your  poor  cousin  of  being,  —  who  may  be 
dead,  or  pastor '  of  a  small  parish,  for  all  you  know. 
And  yet  every  school-girl  can  prattle  of  the  educational 
uses  of  poverty,  and  of  having  to  make  one's  own  living ! 
I  have  a  good  mind  to  take  your  thousand  pounds 
sterling  out  of  your  pocket  and  throw  them  into  Charles 
Pdver, —  and  then  begin  at  the  beginning!  By  the 
time  I  'd  learnt  what  poverty  can  teach,  it  would  be 
over,  —  or  I  am  no  true  man !  Only  they  who  are 
ashamed  of  themselves,  or  afraid  of  other  people,  need 
to  start  rich." 

Nevertheless,  he  could  not  do  otherwise  than  hunt 
up  the  only  relative  he  had  in  America.  Subsequent 
events  did  not  convict  him  of  being  a  mere  egotist, 
swayed  only  by  the  current  of  base  success.  He  did 
not  despise  prosperity,  but  he  cared  yet  more  to  find  out 


THE   VAGARIES   OF   HELWYSE.  77 

truths  about  things  and  men.  This  is  not  the  story  of 
'  a  fortune-hunter ;  not,  at  all  events,  of  a  hunter  of  such 
fortunes  as  are  made  and  lost  nowadays.  But,  when 
one  half  of  a  man  detects  unworthy  motives  in  the 
other  half,  it  is  embarrassing.  He  acts  most  wisely, 
perhaps,  who  drops  discussion,  and  lets  the  balance  of 
good  and  bad,  at  the  given  moment,  decide.  Our  com 
pound  life  makes  many  compromises,  whereby  our  pro 
gress,  whether  heavenward  or  hellward,  is  made  slow 
—  and  sure  ! 

Here,  or  hereabouts,  Balder  lost  his  way.  When 
thinking  hard,  he  was  beside  himself;  he  strode,  and 
tossed  his  beard,  and  shouldered  inoffensive  people 
aside,  and  drew  his  eyebrows  together,  or  smiled. 
Then,  by  and  by,  he  would  awake  to  realities,  and  find 
himself  he  knew  not  where. 

This  time,  it  was  in  an  unsavory  back-street ;  some 
dirty  children  were  playing  in  the  gutters,  and  a  tall, 
rather  flashily  dressed  man  was  walking  along  some 
distance  ahead,  carrying  something  in  one  hand.  Hel- 
wyse  at  first  mended  his  pace  to  overtake  the  fellow, 
and  ask  the  way  to  the  hotel.  But  he  presently 
changed  his  purpose,  his  attention  being  drawn  to  the 
oddity  of  the  other's  behavior. 

The  man  was  evidently  one  of  those  who  live  much 
alone,  and  so  contract  unconscious  habits,  against 
which  society  offers  the  only  safeguard.  He  was  ab- 


78  IDOLATRY. 

sorbed  in  some  imaginary  dialogue  ;  and  so  imperfectly 
could  his  fleshly  veil  conceal  his  mental  processes, 
that  he  gesticulated  everything  that  passed  through 
his  mind.  These  gestures,  though  perfectly  apparent 
to  a  steady  observer,  were  so  far  kept  within  bounds 
as  not  to  get  more  than  momentary  notice  from  the 
passers-by,  who,  indeed,  found  metal  more  attractive 
to  their  gaze  in  Helwyse. 

Now  did  the  man  draw  his  head  back  and  spread 
out  his  arms,  as  in  surprise  and  repudiation ;  now  his 
shoulders  rose  high,  in  deprecation  or  disclaimer.  Now 
his  forefinger  cunningly  sought  the  side  of  his  nose; 
now  his  fist  shook  in  an  imaginary  face.  At  times 
he  would  stretch  out  a  pleading  arm  and  neck  ;  the 
next  moment  he  was  an  inflexible  tyrant,  spurning  a 
suppliant.  Again  he  would  break  into  a  soundless 
chuckle ;  then,  raising  his  hand  to  his  forehead,  seern 
overwhelmed  with  despair  and  anguish.  Occasionally 
he  would  walk  some  distance  quite  passively,  only 
glancing  furtively  about  him ;  but  erelong  he  would 
forget  himself  again,  and  the  dialogue  would  begin 
anew. 

Balder  watched  the  man  curiously,  but  without 
seeming  to  perceive  the  rather  grisly  similitude  be 
tween  the  latter  s  vagaries  and  his  own. 

"What  an  ugly  thing  the  inside  of  this  person 
seems  to  be  ! "  he  said.  "  But  then,  whose  thoughts 


THE   VAGARIES   OF   HELWYSE.  79 

and  emotions  would  not  render  him  a  laughing-stock 
if  they  could  be  seen  ?  If  everybody  looked,  to  his 
fellow,  as  he  really  is,  or  even  as  he  looks  to  him 
self,  mankind  would  fly  asunder,  and  think  the  stars 
hiding-places  not  remote  enough  !  How  many  men 
in  the  world  could  walk  froin  one  end  of  the  street 
they  live  in  to  the  other,  talking  and  acting  their  in 
most  thoughts  all  the  way,  and  retain  a  bit  of  any 
body's  respect  or  love  afterwards  ?  No  wonder  Heaven 
is  pure,  if  our  spiritual  bodies  are  only  thoughts  and 
feelings  !  and  a  Hell  where  every  devil  saw  his  fel 
low's  deformity  outwardly  manifested  would  be  Hell 
indeed ! 

"  But  that  can't  be.  Angels  behold  their  own  love 
liness,  because  doing  so  makes  them  lovelier ;  but  no 
devil  could  know  his  own  vileness  and  live.  They 
think  their  hideousness  charming,  and,  when  the  dark 
ness  is  thickest  about  them,  most  firmly  believe  them 
selves  in  Heaven.  But  the  light  of  Heaven  would 
be  real  darkness  to  them,  for  a  ray  of  it  would  strike 
them  blind!" 

Helwyse  was  too  prone  to  moralizing.  It  shall  not 
be  our  cue  to  quote  him,  save  when  to  do  so  may  seem 
to  serve  an  ulterior  purpose. 

"I  would  like  to  hear  the  story  that  fellow  is  so 
exercised  about,"  muttered  his  pursuer.  "How  do  I 
know  it  does  n't  concern  me  ?  That  violin-box  he 


80  IDOLATRY. 

carries  is  very  much  in  his  way ;  shall  I  offer  to 
carry  it  for  him,  and,  in  return,  hear  his  story  ?  If 
the  music  soothes  his  soul  as  much  as  the  box  mod 
erates  his  gestures  —  " 

Here  the  man  abruptly  turned  into  a  doorway,  and 
was  gone.  On  coming  up,  Helwyse  found  that  the 
doorway  led  in  through  a  pair  of  green  folding-doors 
to  some  place  unseen.  The  house  had  an  air  of  vil- 
lanous  respectability,  —  a  gambling-house  air,  or  worse. 
Did  the  musician  live  there?  Helwyse  paused  but 
a  moment,  and  then  walked  on;  and  thus,  sagacious 
reader,  the  meeting  was  for  the  second  time  put  off. 

When  he  reached  his  hotel,  he  had  only  half  an 
hour  to  dress  for  dinner  in ;  but  he  prepared  himself 
faultlessly,  chanting  a  sort  of  hymn  to  Appetite  the 
while.  "  Hunger,"  quoth  he,  "is  mightiest  of  magicians ; 
breeds  hope,  energy,  brains  ;  prompts  to  love  and 
friendship.  Hunger  gives  day  and  night  their  mean 
ing,  and  makes  the  pulse  of  time  beat ;  creates  society, 
industry,  and  rank.  Hunger  moves  man  to  join  in  the 
work  of  creation, — to  harmonize  himself  with  the  music 
of  the  universe,  —  to  feel  ambition,  joy,  and  sorrow. 
Hunger  unites  man  to  nature  in  the  ever-recurring 
inspiration  to  food,  followed  by  the  ever-alternating 
ecstasy  of  digestion.  Morning  tunes  his  heart  to  joy, 
for  the  benison  of  breakfast  awaits  him.  The  sun 
scales  heaven  to  light  him  to  his  noonday  meal. 


THE   VAGARIES   OF   HELWYSE.  81 

Evening  wooes  him  supperwards,  and  night  brings 
timeless  sleep,  to  waft  him  to  another  dawn.  Eating 
is  earth's  first  law,  and  heaven  itself  could  not  sub 
sist  without  it ! " 

So  Balder  Helwyse  and  the  cook  feasted  gloriously 
that  afternoon,  in  the  back  pantry,  and  they  solemnly 
installed  the  partridges  among  the  constellations ! 


VII. 

A  QUAEEEL. 

same    afternoon    Mr.   MacGentle   put    his 
I      head  into  the  outer  office  and  said,  "  Mr.  Dyke, 
could  I  speak  with"  you  a  moment  ? " 

Mr.  Dyke  scraped  back  his  chair  and  went  in,  with 
his  polished  bald  head,  and  square  face  and  figure, 
—  a  block  of  common-sense.  He  was  more  common- 
sensible  than  usual,  that  afternoon,  because  he  had 
so  strangely  forgotten  himself  in  the  morning.  Mr. 
MacGentle  was  in  his  usual  position  for  talking  with 
his  confidential  clerk,  —  standing  up  with  his  back  to 
the  fireplace,  and  his  coat-tails  over  his  arms.  Ex 
perience  had  taught  him  that  this  attitude  was  better 
adapted  than  any  other  to  sustain  the  crushing  weight 
of  Mr.  Dyke's  sense.  To  have  conversed  with  him  in 
a  sitting  position  would  have  been  to  lose  breath  and 
vitality  before  the  end  of  five  minutes. 

"Mr.  Helwyse  has  thoughts  of  settling  in  Boston 
to  practise  his  profession,"  began  the  President,  gently. 
"I  told  him  you  would  be  likely  to  know  what  the 
chances  are." 


A  QUARREL.  83 

"  Profession  is  —  what  ?  "  demanded  Mr.  Dyke,  set 
tling  his  fist  on  his  hip. 

"0  —  doctor  —  physician  ;  eye-doctor,  he  said,  I 
think" 

"Eye-doctor?  Well,  Dr.  Schlemm  won't  last  the 
winter;  may  drop  any  day.  Just  the  thing  for  Mr. 
Helwyse, —  Dr.  Helwyse."  And  the  subject,  being 
discussed  at  some  length  between  the  two  gentlemen, 
took  on  a  promising  aspect.  His  house  was  picked 
out  for  the  new  incumbent,  his  earnings  calculated, 
his  success  foretold.  Two  characters  so  diverse  as  were 
the  President  and  his  clerk  united,  it  seems,  in  liking 
the  young  physician. 

"  Married  ? "  asked  Mr.  Dyke,  after  a  pause. 

"  Why,  no,  —  no  ;  and  he  does  n't  seem  inclined 
to  marry.  But  he  is  quite  young;  perhaps  he  may, 
later  on  in  life,  Mr.  Dyke." 

The  elderly  clerk  straightened  his  mouth.  "  Matter 
of  taste  —  and  policy.  Gives  solidity,  —  position;  — 
and  is  an  expense  and  a  responsibility."  Mr.  Dyke 
himself  was  well  known  to  be  the  husband  of  an 
idolized  wife,  and  the  father  of  a  despotic  family. 

"  He  never  had  the  advantage  of  woman's  influence 
in  his  childhood,  you  know.  His  poor  mother  died 
in  giving  him  and  his  sister  birth  ;  and  the  sister  was 
lost,  —  stolen  away,  two  or  three  years  later.  He  does 
not  appreciate  woman  at  her  true  value,"  murmured 
MacGentle. 


84  IDOLATRY. 

"  Stolen  away  ?  His  sister  died  in  infancy,  —  so  I 
understood,  sir,"  said  the  clerk,  whose  versions  of  past 
events  were  apt  to  differ  from  the  President's. 

But  the  President  —  perhaps  because  he  was  con 
scious  that  his  memory  regarding  things  of  recent 
occurrence  was  treacherous  —  was  abnormally  sensi 
tive  as  to  the  correctness  of  his  more  distant  remi 
niscences. 

"O  no,  she  was  stolen,  —  stolen  by  her  nurse, 
just  before  Thor  Helwyse  went  to  Europe,  I  think/' 
said  he. 

"Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Dyke,  with  an 
iron  smile ;  "  died,  —  burnt  to  death  in  her  first 
year,  —  yes,  sir  ! " 

"Mr.  Dyke,"  rejoined  MacGentle,  dignifiedly,  lift 
ing  his  chin  high  above  his  stock,  "  I  have  myself  seen 
the  little  girl,  then  in  her  third  year,  pulling  her 
brother's  hair  on  the  nursery  floor.  She  was  dark- 
eyed, —  a  very  lovely  child.  As  to  the  burning,  I 
now  recollect  that  when  the  house  in  Brooklyn  took 
fire,  the  child  was  in  danger,  but  was  rescued  by  her 
nurse,  who  herself  received  very  severe  injuries/' 

Mr.  Dyke  heaved  a  long,  deliberate  sigh,  and  allowed 
his  eyes  to  wander  slowly  round  the  room,  before  re 
plying. 

"You  are  not  a  family  man,  Mr.  MacGentle,  sir! 
Don't  blame  you,  sir  !  Your  memory,  perhaps  —  But 


A  QUARREL.  85 

no  matter!  The  nurse  who  stole  the  child  was,  I 
presume,  the  same  who  rescued  her  from  the  fire  ? " 

Mr.  Dyke  perhaps  intended  to  give  a  delicately 
ironical  emphasis  to  this  question,  but  his  irony  was 
apt  to  be  a  rather  unwieldy  and  unmistakable  affair. 
The  truth  was,  he  was  a  little  staggered  by  the  Presi 
dent's  circumstantial  statement;  whence  his  delibera 
tion,  and  his  not  entirely  pertinent  rejoinder  about  "  a 
family  man." 

"  And  why  not  the  same,  sir  ?  I  ask  you,  why  not 
the  same  ? "  demanded  Mr.  MacGentle,  with  slender 
imperiousness. 

But,  by  this  time,  Mr.  Dyke  had  thought  of  a  new 
argument. 

"  The  little  girl,  I  understood  you  to  say,  was  dark  ? 
Since  she  was  the  twin-sister  of  one  of  Mr.  Balder 
Helwyse's  complexion,  that  is  odd,  Mr.  MacGentle,  — 
odd,  sir."  And  the  solid  family  man  fixed  his  sharp 
brown  eyes  full  upon  the  unsubstantial  bachelor.  The 
latter's  delicate  nostrils  expanded,  and  a  pink  flush 
rose  to  his  faded  cheeks.  He  was  now  as  haughty 
and  superb  as  a  paladin. 

"  I  will  discuss  business  subjects  with  my  subordi 
nates,  Mr.  Dyke ;  not  other  subjects,  if  you  please ! 
This  dispute  was  not  begun  by  me.  Let  it  be  carried 
no  further,  sir !  Twins  are  not  necessarily,  nor  inva 
riably,  of  the  same  complexion.  Let  nothing  more  be 


86  IDOLATRY. 

said,  Mr.  Dyke.  I  trust  the  little  girl  may  yet  be 
found  and  restored  to  her  family  —  to  —  to  her  brother  ! 
I  trust  she  may  yet  be  found,  sir  ! "  And  he  glared  at 
Mr.  Dyke  aggressively. 

"  I  trust  you  may  live  to  see  it,  Mr.  MacGentle, 
sir!"  said  the  confidential  clerk,  shifting  his  ground  in 
a  truly  masterly  manner ;  and  before  the  President 
could  recover,  he  had  bowed  and  gone  out.  Ten  min 
utes  afterwards  MacGentle  opened  the  door,  and  lo ! 
Dyke  himself  on  the  threshold. 

"Mr.  Dyke!" 

"  Mr.  MacGentle  ! "  in  the  same  breath. 

"I  —  Mr.  Dyke,  let  me  apologize  for  my  asperity,  — 
for  my  rudeness,"  says  MacGentle,  stepping  forward 
and  holding  out  his  thin  white  hand,  his  eyebrows 
more  raised  than  ever,  the  corners  of  his  mouth  more 
depressed.  "  I  am  sincerely  sorry  that  —  that  —  " 

"  0  sir  ! "  cries  the  square  clerk,  grasping  the  thin 
hand  in  both  his  square  palms;  "0  sir!  0  sir!  No,  no! 
— no,  no  !  I  was  just  coming  to  beg  you  —  My  fault, 
—  my  fault,  Mr.  MacGentle,  sir  !  No,  no  !  " 

Thus  incoherently  ended  the  quarrel  between  these 
two  old  friends,  the  dispute  being  left  undecided.  But 
the  important  point  was  established  that  Balder  Hel- 
wyse  was  insured  a  practice  in  Boston,  in  case  his 
uncle  Glyphic's  fortune  failed  to  enrich  him. 


VIII. 

A  COLLISION  IMMINENT. 

ALAEGE,  handsome  steamer  was  the  "Empire 
State,"  of  the  line  which  ran  between  Newport 
and  New  York.  She  was  painted  white,  had  walking- 
beam  engines,  and  ornamented  paddle-boxes,  and  had 
been  known  to  run  nearly  twenty  knots  in  an  hour. 
On  the  evening  of  the  twenty-seventh  of  May,  in  the 
year  of  which  we  write,  she  left  her  Newport  dock  as 
usual,  with  a  full  list  of  passengers.  On  getting  out 
of  the  harbor,  she  steamed  into  a  bank  of  solid  fog,  and 
only  got  out  of  it  the  next  morning,  just  before  passing 
Hellgate,  at  the  head  of  East  Eiver,  New  York.  On 
the  passage  down  Long  Island  Sound  she  met  with  an 
accident.  She  ran  into  the  schooner  Eesurrection,  which 
was  lying  becalmed  across  her  course,  carrying  away 
most  of  the  schooner's  bowsprit,  but  doing  no  serious 
damage.  This,  however,  was  not  the  worst.  On  arriv 
ing  in  New  York,  it  was  found  that  one  of  the  passen 
gers  was  missing  !  He  had  fallen  overboard  during  the 
night,  possibly  at  the  time  of  the  collision. 

Balder  Halwyse  was  on  board.      After  dining  with 


IDOLATRY. 

the  cook,  and  smoking-  a  real  Havana  cigar  (probably 
the  first  real  one  that  he  had  ever  been  blessed  with), 
he  put  a  package  of  the  same  brand  in  his  travelling- 
bag,  bade  his  entertainer,  —  who  had  solemnly  engaged 
to  remain  in  Boston  for  Mr.  Helwyse's  sole  sake,  —  bade 
his  fellow-convivialist  good  by,  and  took  the  train  to 
Newport,  and  from  there  the  "  Empire  State  "  for  New 
York. 

The  darkness  was  the  most  impenetrable  that  the 
young  man  had  ever  seen;  Long  Island  Sound  was 
like  a  pocket.  The  passengers  —  those  who  did  not 
go  to  their  state-rooms  at  once  —  sat  in  the  cabin  read 
ing,  or  dozing  on  the  chairs  and  sofas.  A  few  men 
stayed  out  on  deck  for  an  hour  or  two,  smoking ;  but 
at  last  they  too  went  in.  The  darkness  was  appalling. 
The  officer  on  the  bridge  blew  his  steam  fog-whistle 
every  few  minutes,  and  kept  his  lanterns  hung  out ; 
but  they  must  have  been  invisible  at  sixty  yards. 

Helwyse  kept  the  deck  alone.  Apparently  he 
meant  to  smoke  his  whole  bundle  of  cigars  before  turn 
ing  in.  He  paced  up  and  down,  Napoleon-like  in  his 
high  boots,  until  finally  he  was  brought  to  a  stand  by 
the  blind  night-wall,  which  no. man  can  either  scale  or 
circumvent.  Then  he  leaned  on  the  railing  and  looked 
against  the  darkness.  Not  a  light  to  be  seen  in 
heaven  or  on  earth  !  The  water  below  whispered  and 
swirled  past,  torn  to  soft  fragments  by  the  gigantic 


A   COLLISION  IMMINENT.  89 

paddle-wheel.     Helwyse's  beard  was  wet  and  his  hands 
sticky  with  the  salt  mist. 

Ever  and  anon  sounded  the  fog-whistle,  hoarsely, 
as  though  the  fog  had  got  in  its  throat ;  and  the  pale 
glare  of  a  lantern,  fastened  aloft  somewhere,  lighted  up 
the  white  issuing  steam  for  a  moment.  There  was  no 
wind;  one  was  conscious  of  motion,  but  all  sense  of 
direction  and  position  —  save  to  the  steersman  —  was 
lost.  Helwyse  could  see  the  red  end  of  his  cigar,  and 
very  cosey  and  friendly  it  looked ;  but  he  could  see 
nothing  else. 

It  is  said  that  staid  and  respectable  people,  when 
thoroughly  steeped  in  night,  will  sometimes  break  out 
in  wild  grimaces  and  outlandish  gesticulations.  It  is 
certainly  the  time  when  unlawful  thoughts  and  words 
come  to  men  most  readily  and  naturally.  Night 
brings  forth  many  things  that  daylight  starts  from. 
The  real  power  of  darkness  lies  not  in  merely  baffling 
the  eyesight,  but  in  creating  the  feeling  of  darkness  in 
the  soul.  The  chains  of  light  are  broken,  and  we  can 
almost  believe  our  internal  night  to  be  as  impenetrable 
to  God's  eyes  as  that  external,  to  our  own ! 

By  and  by  Helwyse  thought  he  would  find  some 
snug  place  and  sit  down.  The  cabin  of  the  "  Empire 
State "  was  built  on  the  main  deck,  abaft  the  funnel, 
like  a  long,  low  house.  Between  the  stern  end  of 
this  house  and  the  taffrail  was  a  small  space,  thickly 


90 


IDOLATRY. 


grown  with  camp-stools.  Helwyse  groped  his  way  thith 
er,  got  hold  of  a  couple  of  the  camp-stools,  and  arranged 
himself  comfortably  with  his  back  against  the  cabin 
wall.  The  waves  bubbled  invisibly  in  the  wake  be 
neath.  After  sitting  for  a  while  in  the  dense  black 
ness,  Helwyse  began  to  feel  as  though  his  whole  physi 
cal  self  were  shrivelled  into  a  single  atom,  careering 
blindly  through  infinite  space  ! 

After  all,  and  really,  was  he  anything  more  ?  If 
he  chose  to  think  not,  what  logic  could  convince  him 
of  the  contrary  ?  Visible  creation,  as  any  child  could 
tell  him,  was  an  illusion,  —  was  not  what  it  seemed  to 
be.  But  this  darkness  was  no  illusion !  Why,  then, 
was  it  not  the  only  reality  ?  and  he  but  an  atom, 
charged  with  a  vital  power  of  so-called  senses,  that 
generally  deceived  him,  but  sometimes  —  as  now  —  let 
him  glimpse  the  truth  ?  The  fancy,  absurd  as  it  was, 
had  its  attraction  for  the  time  being.  This  great  living, 
staring  world  of  men  and  things  is  a  terrible  weight  to 
lug  upon  one's  back.  But  if  man  be  an  invisible  atom, 
what  a  vast,  wild,  boundless  freedom  is  his  !  Infinite 
space  is  wide  enough  to  cut  any  caper  in,  and  no  one 
the  wiser. 

One  would  like  to  converse  with  a  man  who  had 
been  born  and  had  lived  in  solitude  and  darkness. 
What  original  views  he  would  have  about  himself  and 
life !  Would  he  think  himself  an  abstract  intelligence, 


A  COLLISION  IMMINENT.  91 

out  of  space  and  time  ?  What  a  riddle  his  physical 
sensations  would  be  to  him  !  Or,  suppose  him  to  meet 
with  another  being  brought  up  in  the  same  way ;  how 
they  would  mystify  each  other  !  Would  they  learn  to 
feel  shame,  love,  hate  ?  or  do  the  passions  only  grow 
in  sunshine  ?  Would  they  ever  laugh  ?  Would  they 
hatch  plots  against  each  other,  lie,  deceive  ?  Would 
they  have  secrets  from  each  other  ? 

But,  fancy  aside,  take  a  supposable  case.  Suppose 
two  sinners  of  our  daylight  world  to  meet  for  the  first 
time,  mutually  unknown,  on  a  night  like  this.  In 
visible,  only  audible,  how  might  they  plunge  pro 
found  into  most  naked  intimacy,  —  read  aloud  to  each 
other  the  secrets  of  their  deepest  hearts  !  Would  the 
confession  lighten  their  souls,  or  make  them  twice  as 
heavy  as  before  ?  Then,  the  next  morning,  they  might 
meet  and  pass,  unrecognizing  and  unrecognized.  But 
would  the  knot  binding  them  to  each  other  be  any 
the  less  real,  because  neither  knew  to  whom  he  was 
tied  ?  Some  day,  in  the  midst  of  friends,  in  the  bright 
est  glare  of  "the  sunshine,  the  tone  of  a  voice  would 
strike  them  pale  and  cold. 

Somewhat  after  this  fashion,  perhaps,  did  Helwyse 
commune  with  himself.  He  liked  to  follow  the  whim 
of  the  moment,  whither  it  would  lead  him.  He  was 
romantic  ;  it  was  one  of  his  agreeablest  traits,  because 
spontaneous ;  and  he  indulged  it  the  more,  as  being 


92  IDOLATRY. 

confident  that  he  had  too  much  solid  ballast  in  the 
hold  to  be  in  danger  of  upsetting.  To-night,  at  this 
point  of  his  mental  ramble,  he  found  that  his  cigar  had 
gone  out.  Had  he  been  thinking  aloud  ?  He  believed 
not,  and  yet  there  was  no  telling ;  he  often  did  so,  un 
consciously.  Were  it  so,  and  were  any  one  listening, 
that  person  had  him  decidedly  at  advantage ! 

What  put  it  into  his  head  that  some  one  might  be 

listening  ?     It  may  have  come  by  pure  accident, if 

there  be  such  a  thing.  The  idea  returned,  stealing 
over  his  mind  like  a  chilling  breath.  What  if  some 
one  had  all  along  been  close  beside  him,  with  eyes 
fixed  upon  him !  Helwyse  found  himself  sitting  per 
fectly  still,  holding  his  breath  to  listen.  There  was  no 
disguising  it,  — he  felt  uneasy.  He  wished  his  cigar 
had  not  gone  out.  On  second  thoughts,  he  wished 
there  had  not  been  any  cigar  at  all,  because,  if  any 
one  were  near,  the  cigar  must  have  pointed  out  the 
smoker's  precise  position.  The  uneasiness  did  not 
lessen,  but  grew  more  defined. 

It  was  like  the  sensation  felt  when  pointed  at  by 
a  human  finger,  or  stared  at  persistently.  Was  there 
indeed  any  one  near?  No  sound  or  movement  gave 
answer,  but  the  odd  sensation  continued.  Helwyse 
fancied  he  could  now  tell  whence  it  came  ;  —  from  the 
left,  and  not  far  away.  He  peered  earnestly  thither 
ward,  but  his  eyes  only  swallowed  blackness. 


A  COLLISION  IMMINENT.  93 

Was  not  this  carrying  a  whim  to  a  foolish  length  ? 
If  he  thought  he  had  a  companion,  why  not  speak, 
and  end  the  doubt  ?  But  the  dense  silence,  darkness, 
uncertainty,  made  common-sense  seem  out  of  place. 
The  whole  black  fog,  the  sea,  the  earth  itself,  seemed 
to  be  pressing  down  his  will !  The  longer  he  delayed, 
the  weaker  he  grew. 

A  slight  shifting  of  his  position  caused  him  all  at 
once  to  encounter  the  eyes  of  the  unseen  presence  with 
his  own  !  The  stout-nerved  young  fellow  was  startled 
to  the  very  heart.  Was  the  unseen  presence  startled 
also  ?  At  all  events,  the  shock  found  Balder  Helwyse 
his  tongue,  seldom  before  tied  up  without  his  consent. 

"  I  hope  I  'm  not  disturbing  your  solitude.  You  are 
not  a  noisy  neighbor,  sir." 

So  flat  fell  the  words  on  the  blank  darkness,  it 
seemed  as  if  there  could  never  be  a  reply.  Neverthe 
less,  a  reply  came. 

"  You  must  come  much  nearer  me  than  you  are,  to 
disturb  my  solitude.  It  does  not  consist  in  being 
without  a  companion." 

The  quality  of  this  voice  of  darkness  was  peculiar. 
It  sounded  old,  yet  of  an  age  that  had  not  outlived  the 
devil  of  youth.  Probably  the  invisibility  of  the  speak 
er  enhanced  its  effect.  With  most  of  the  elements  of 
pleasing,  it  was  nevertheless  repulsive.  It  was  soft, 
fluent,  polished,  but  savage  license  was  not  far  off, 


94  IDOLATRY. 

hard  held  by  a  slender  leash ;  an  underlying  suggestion 
of  harsh  discordance.  The  utterance,  though  somewhat 
.rapid,  was  carefully  distinct. 

Helwyse  had  the  gift  of  familiarity,  —  of  that  rare 
kind  of  familiarity  which  does  not  degenerate  into 
contempt.  But  there  was  an  incongruity  about  this 
person,  hard  to  assimilate.  In  a  couple  of  not  very 
original  sentences,  he  had  wrought  upon  his  listener  an 
effect  of  depraved  intellectual  power,  strangely  com 
bined  with  artless  simplicity,  —  an  unspeakably  dis 
tasteful  conjunction !  Imagination,  freed  from  the 
check  of  the  senses,  easily  becomes  grotesque;  and 
Helwyse,  unable  to  see  his  companion,  had  no  diffi 
culty  in  picturing  him  as  a  grisly  monster,  having  a 
satanic  head  set  upon  the  ingenuous  shoulders  of  a 
child.  And  what  was  Helwyse  himself  ?  No  longer, 
surely,  the  gravely  humorous  moralizer  ?  The  laws  of 
harmony  forbid!  He  is  a  monster  likewise;  say  — 
since  grotesqueness  is  in  vogue  —  the  heart  of  Lucifer 
burning  beneath  the  cool  brain  of  a  Grecian  sage. 
The  symbolism  is  not  inapt,  since  Helwyse,  while 
afflicted  with  pride  and  ambition  as  abstract  as  bound 
less,  had,  at  the  same  time,  a  logical,  fearless  brain,  and 
keen  delight  in  beauty. 

"  I  was  just  thinking,"  remarked  the  latter  monster, 
"  that  this  was  a  good  place  for  confidential  conversa 
tion." 


A   COLLISION   IMMINENT.  95 

"  You  believe,  then,  that  talking  relieves  the  mind  ? " 
rejoined  the  former,  softly. 

"  I  believe  a  thief  or  a  murderer  would  be  glad  of  an 
hour  —  such  as  now  passes  —  to  impart  the  story  of 
what  is  dragging  him  to  Hell.  And  even  the  best 
houses  are  better  for  an  airing ! " 

"  A  pregnant  idea !  There  are  certainly  some  topics 
one  would  like  to  discuss,  free  from  the  restraint  that 
responsibility  imposes.  Have  you  ever  reflected  on 
the  subject  of  omnipotence  ? " 

Somewhat  confounded  at  this  bold  question,  Hel- 
wyse  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  I  can't  see  you,  remember,  any  more  than  you  can 
see  me,"  insinuated  the  voice,  demurely. 

"  I  believe  I  have  sometimes  asked  myself  whether 
it  were  obtainable,  —  how  it  might  best  be  approxi 
mated,"  admitted  Helwyse,  cautiously ;  for  he  began  to 
feel  that  even  darkness  might  be  too  transparent  for 
the  utterance  of  some  thoughts. 

"  But  you  never  got  a  satisfactory  answer,  and  are 
not  therefore  omnipotent  ?  Well,  the  reason  probably 
is,  that  you  started  wrongly.  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you 
to  try  the  method  of  sin  ? " 

"  To  obtain  omnipotence  ?     No  !  " 

"  It  would  n't  be  right,  —  eh  ?  "  chuckled  the  voice. 
"  But  then  one  must  lay  aside  prejudice  if  one  wants 
to  be  all-powerful !  Now,  sin  denotes  separation  ;  the 


96  IDOLATRY.  » 

very  etymology  of  the  word  should  have  attracted  the 
attention  of  an  ambitious  man,  such  as  you  seem  to  ba 
it  is  a  path  separate  from  all  other  paths,  and  there 
fore  worth  exploring." 

"  It  leads  to  weakness,  not  to  power ! " 

"  If  followed  in  the  wrong  spirit,  very  true.     But  the 

wise  man  sins  and  is  strong !     See  how  frank  I  am  ! 

But  don't  let  me  monopolize  the  conversation." 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  your  argument,  if  you  "have 
one.  You  are  a  prophet  of  new  things." 

"  Sin  is  an  old  force,  though  it  may  be  applied  in 
new  ways.  Well,  you  will  admit  that  the  true  sinner 
is  the  only  true  reformer  and  philosopher  among  men  ? 
No  ?  I  will  explain,  then.  The  world  is  full  of  dis 
cordances,  for  which  man  is  not  to  blame.  His  enr 
deavor  to  meet  and  harmonize  this  discordance  is 
called  sin.  His  indignation  at  disorder,  rebellion 
against  it,  attempts  to  right  it,  are  crimes  I  That  is 
the  vulgar  argument  which  wise  men  smile  at." 

"  I  may  be  very  dull ;  but  I  think  your  explana 
tions  need  explaining." 

"  We  '11  take  some  examples.  What  is  the  liar,  but 
one  who  sees  the  false  relations  of  things,  and  seeks 
to  put  them  in  the  true  ?  The  mission  of  the  thief, 
again,  is  to  equalize  the  notoriously  unjust  distribu 
tion  of  wealth.  A  fundamental  defect  in  the  princi 
ples  of  human  association  gave  birth  to  the  murderer ; 


A   COLLISION  IMMINENT.  97 

and  as  for  the  adulterer,  he  is  an  immortal  protest 
against  the  absurd  laws  which  interfere  between  the 
sexes.  Are  not  these  men,  and  others  of  similar  stamp, 
the  bulwarks  of  true  society,  —  our  leaders  towards 
justice  and  freedom  ?  " 

Whether  this  were  satire,  madness,  or  earnest,  Hel- 
wyse  could  not  determine.  The  night-fog  had  got  into 
his  brain.  He  made  shift,  however,  to  say  that  the 
criminal  class  were  not,  as  a  mere  matter  of  fact,  the 
most  powerful. 

"Again  you  misapprehend  me,"  rejoined  the  voice, 
with  perfect  suavity.  "  No  doubt  there  are  many 
weak  and  foolish  persons  who  commit  crimes,  —  nay, 
I  will  admit  that  the  vast  majority  of  criminals  are 
weak  and  foolish ;  but  that  does  not  affect  the  dig 
nity  of  the  true  sinner,  —  he  who  sins  from  exalted 
motives.  Ignorance  is  the  only  real  crime,  polluting 
deeds  that,  wisely  done,  are  sublime.  Sin  is  cul 
ture  ! " 

"  Were  I,  then,  from  motives  of  self-culture,  to  kill 
you,  I  should  be  taking  a  long  step  towards  rising  in 
your  estimation  ? "  put  in  Helwyse. 

"  Admirable  ! "  softly  exclaimed  the  voice,  in  a  tone  as 
of  an  approving  pat  on  the  back.  "  Certainly,  I  should 
be  the  last  to  deny  it !  But  would  it  not  be  more  for 
the  general  good,  were  I,  who  have  long  been  a  stu 
dent  of  these  things,  to  kill  a  seeming  novice  like 

5  G 


98  IDOLATRY. 

you  ?  It  would  assure  me  of  having  had  one  sincere 
disciple." 

"  I  wonder  whether  he 's  really  mad  ?  "  mused  Balder 
Helwyse,  shuddering  a  little  in  the  dampness. 

"  But,  badinage  aside/'  resumed  this  loquacious  voice, 
"  although  there  is  so  much  talk  and  dispute  about 
evil,  very  few  people  know  what  evil  essentially  is. 
Now,  there  are  some  things,  the  mere  doing  of  which 
by  the  most  involuntary  agent  would  at  once  stamp 
his  soul  with  the  conviction  of  ineffable  sin.  He  would 
have  touched  the  essence  of  evil.  And  if  a  wise  man 
has  done  that,  he  has  had  in  his  hand  the  key  to 
omnipotence  ! " 

"It  is  easily  had,  then.  A  man  need  but  take  his 
Leviticus  and  Deuteronomy,  and  run  through  the  cat 
alogue  of  crimes.  He  would  be  sure  of  finding  the 
key  hidden  beneath  some  of  them." 

"  ISTo  ;  you  do  Moses  scant  justice.  He  —  shrewd 
soul !  —  was  too  cunning  to  fall  into  such  an  error  as 
that.  He  forbade  a  few  insignificant  and  harmless 
acts,  which  every  one  is  liable  to  commit.  His  policy 
was  no  less  simple  than  sagacious.  By  amusing  man 
kind  with  such  trumpery,  he  lured  them  off  the  scent 
of  true  sin.  Believe  me,  the  artifice  was  no  idle  one. 
Should  mankind  learn  the  secret,  a  generation  would 
not  pass  before  the  world  would  be  turned  upside 
down,  and  its  present  Ruler  buried  in  the  ruins  ! " 


A  COLLISION  IMMINENT.  99 

At  this  point,  surely,  Helwyse  got  up  and  went  to 
his  state-room  without  listening  to  another  word  ?  — 
Not  so.  The  Lucifer  in  him  was  getting  the  better 
of  the  sage.  He  wanted  to  hear  all  that  the  voice  of 
darkness  had  to  say.  There  might  be  something  new, 
something  instructive  in  it.  He  might  hear  a  word 
that  would  unbar  the  door  he  had  striven  so  long  to 
open.  He  aimed  at  knowledge  and  power  beyond  rec 
ognized  human  reach.  He  had  taken  thought  with 
himself  keenly  and  deeply,  but  was  still  uncertain 
and  unsatisfied.  Here  opened  a  new  avenue,  so  un 
tried  as  to  transcend  common  criticism.  The  tempta 
tion  to  omnipotence  is  a  grand  thing,  and  may  have 
shaken  greater  men  than  Helwyse  ;  and  he  had  trained 
himself  to  regard  it  —  not  exactly  as  a  temptation.  As 
for  good  or  bad  methods,  —  at  a  certain  intellectual 
height  such  distinctions  vanish.  Vulgar  immorality  he 
would  turn  from  as  from  anything  vulgar ;  but  refined, 
philosophic  immorality,  as  a  weapon  of  power,  —  there 
was  fascination  in  it. 

—  Folly  and  delusion  !  — 

But  Helwyse  was  only  Helwyse,  careering  through 
pitchy  darkness,  on  a  viewless  sea,  with  a  plausible 
voice  at  his  ear  insinuating  villanous  thoughts  with  an 
air  of  devilish  good-fellowship  ! 

The  "  Empire  State  "  was  at  this  moment  four  and 
a  half  miles  northeast  of  the  schooner  whose  bow- 


100  IDOLATRY. 

sprit  she  was  destined  to  carry  away.  The  steamer 
was  making  about  ten  knots  an  hour;  the  schooner 
was  slowly  drifting  with  the  tide  into  the  line  of  the 
steamer's  course.  The  catastrophe  was  therefore  about 
twenty-seven  minutes  distant. 


IX. 

THE  VOICE   OF  DARKNESS. 

THE  fog-whistle  screeched  dismally.  Helwyse 
took  his  feet  off  the  camp-stool  in  front  of  him, 
and  sat  upright. 

"  Do  you  know  this  secret  of  sin  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  must,  of  course,  be  an  object  of  speculation  to  a 
thoughtful  man,"  answered  the  voice,  modestly  parry 
ing  the  question.  "  But  I  assure  you  that  only  a  man 
of  intellect  —  of  genius  —  has  in  him  the  intelligence, 
the  sublime  reach  of  soul,  which  could  attain  the  full 
solution  of  the  problem ;  they  who  merely  blunder  into 
it  would  fail  to  grasp  the  grand  significance  of  the 
idea." 

"  But  you  affirm  that  whoever  fairly  masters  the 
problem  of  absolute  sin  would  have  God  and  His  king 
dom  at  his  mercy  ? " 

"  I  am  loath  to  appear  boastful ;  but  I  apprehend  the 
fact  to  be  not  unlike  what  you  suggest,"  the  voice  re 
plied,  with  a  subdued  gusto.  "  It  would  depend  upon 
our  hypothetical  person's  discretion,  and  his  views  as 
to  the  claims  of  the  august  Being  who  has  so  long  con- 


102  IDOLATRY. 

trolled  the  .destinies  of  the  human  race,  how  much 
the  existing  order  of  things  might  have  to  fear  from 
him.  I  should  imagine  that  the  august  Being,  if  He 
be  as  wise  as  they  say  He  is,  would  be  careful  how  He 
treated  this  hypothetical  person ! " 

"You  are  a  liar,"  said  Helwyse,  unceremoniously. 
"  Why  is  not  Satan,  who  must  possess  this  all-powerful 
knowledge,  supreme  over  the  universe  ?  " 

Instead  of  taking  offence  (as  Helwyse,  to  do  him 
justice,  hoped  it  would  ;  for  his  Berserker  blood,  which 
boiled  only  at  heaven-and-hell  temperature,  was  begin 
ning  to  stir  in  him),  —  so  far  from  being  offended,  the 
voice  only  uttered  its  peculiar  quiet  chuckle. 

"  Your  frankness  charms  me !  it  proves  you  worthy 
to  learn.  Satan  —  supposing  there  be  such  a  person 
age  —  divides,  with  the  other  august  Being,  the  sov 
ereignty  of  the  spiritual  world.  Were  I  a  cynics  I 
should  say  he  owned  at  least  half  of  the  physical 
world  into  the  bargain !  But  Satan  is  only  a  spirit, 
and  his  power  over  men  is  but  as  the  power  of  a 
dream.  Were  a  Satan  to  arise  in  the  flesh,  so  that 
men  could  see  and  touch  him,  and  hear  his  voice  with 
their  fleshy  ears,  —  there  were  a  Satan  !  '  Already  has 
the  Incarnation  of  goodness  appeared  to  mankind,  and, 
though  the  world  be  moved  to  virtue  only  slowly  and 
with  reluctance,  mark  how  mighty  has  been  his  in 
fluence  !  What  think  you,  then,  would  be  the  power 


THE   VOICE   OF   DARKNESS.  103 

of  a  Christ  of  evil,  showing  to  men  the  path  they 
already  grope  for  ?  I  tell  you,  the  human  race  would 
be  his  only ;  Hell,  full  to  bursting  with  their  hurrying 
souls,  would  outweigh  Heaven  in  the  balance;  the 
teller  of  the  secret  would  be  king  above  all, — for 
ever  ! " 

The  sinuous  voice  twined  round  the  listener's  mind, 
swaddling  the  vigorous  limbs  into  imbecile  inertia. 
But  when  before  now  did  a  sane  human  brain  let  itself 
be  duped  by  sophistry  ?  This  case  were  worth  mark 
ing,  if  only  because  it  is  unparalleled. 

"And  the  only  punishable  sin  is  ignorance!"  mut 
tered  Helwyse. 

"  Well,  I  have  thought  so,  too.  And  I  have  ques 
tioned  whether  a  man  might  have  power  over  himself, 
to  put  his  hand  to  evil  or  to  good  alike,  and  to  remain 
impartial  and  impassive  ;  and  so  make  evil  and  good 
alike  minister  to  his  culture  and  raise  "him  upwards  ! " 

"The  question  does  credit  to  your  wit,"  chimed  in 
the  voice  of  darkness.  "Whoever  has  in  him  the 
making  of  a  deity  must  learn  the  nature  of  opposites. 
the  soldier  will  not  join  battle  without  studying  the 
tactics  of  the  enemy.  Without  experimental  knowl 
edge  of  both  evil  and  good,  none  but  a  fool  would 
believe  that  man  can  become  all-powerful." 

"  From  the  care  with  which  you  avoid  speaking  the 
name  of  God,  if  from  no  other  cause,  I  should  suppose 


104  IDOLATRY. 

you   to   be   the  Devil   himself!"    observed    Helwyse, 
bluntly. 

"Well,  profanity  is  vulgar!  As  to  my  being  the 
Devil,  it  is  too  dark  here  for  either  denial  or  acknowl 
edgment  to  be  of  practical  use.  But  (to  be  serious) 
—  about  this  secret  —  " 

The  voice  paused  interrogatively.      Lucifer,  speak 
ing  through  Helwyse's  lips,  demanded  sullenly,— 
"  Well,  what  is  the  secret  ?  " 

What,  indeed  !  Why,  there  is  no  such  secret ;  —  it 
is  a  bugbear !  But  the  moral  perversion  of  the  per 
son  who  could  soberly  ask  the  question  that  Hel 
wyse  asked  is  not  so  easily  disposed  of.  It  met, 
indeed,  with  full  recognition.  As  for  the  subtile  voice, 
having  accomplished  its  main  purpose,  it  began  now 
to  evade  the  point  and  to  run  into  digressions  ;  until 
the  collision  came,  and  ended  the  conversation  for 
ever. 

"  Unfortunately,"  said  the  voice,  "  the  secret  is  not 
such  as  may  be  told  in  a  word.  Like  all  profound 
knowledge,  it  can  only  be  communicated  by  leading 
the  learner,  step  by  step,  over  the  ground  traversed 
by  the  original  discoverer.  Let  me,  as  a  sort  of  pre 
liminary,  suppose  a  case." 

Hereupon  ensued  a  considerable  silence,  and  Hel 
wyse  seemed  once  more  a  detached  atom,  flying 
through  infinite  darkness  without  guide  or  control. 


THE  VOICE   OF  DAKKNESS.  105 

Where  was  he  ?  —  what  was  he  ?  Did  the  world  ex 
ist,  —  the  broad  earth,  the  sunny  sky,  the  beauty,  the 
sound,  the  order  and  sweet  succession  of  nature  ? 
Was  he  a  shadow  that  had  dreamed  for  a  moment  a 
strange  dream,  and  would  anon  be  quenched,  and  know 
what  had  seemed  Self  no  more  ?  Strangely,  through 
the  doubt  and  uncertainty,  Helwyse  felt  the  pressure 
of  his  shoulders  against  the  cabin  wall,  and  the  touch 
of  the  dead  cigar  between  his  fingers. 

The  voice,  resuming,  restored  him  to  a  reality  that 
seemed  less  trustworthy  than  the  doubt.  The  tone 
was  not  quite  the  same  as  heretofore.  The  smooth 
mocking  had  given  place  to  a  hurried  excitement, 
alien  to  the  philosophic  temperament. 

"A  man  kidnaps  the  child  of  his  enemy,  through 
the  child  to  revenge  himself.  Kill  it  ?  —  no !  he  is 
no  short-sighted  bungler  ;  he  has  refinement,  foresight, 
understanding.  She  is  but  an  infant,  —  open  and  im 
pressible,  warm  and  sanguine  !  He  isolates  her  from 
sight  and  reach.  He  pries  into  her  nature  with  keen 
est  delicacy,  —  no  leaf  is  unread.  Being  learnt,  he 
works  upon  it ;  touches  each  budding  trait  with  gen 
tlest  impulse.  No  violence  3  he  seems  to  leave  her 
to  her  own  development;  yet  nothing  goes  against 
his  will.  More  than  half  is  left  to  nature,  but  his 
scarce  perceptible  touches  bias  nature.  Ah  !  the  ideali 
zation  of  education  ! " 

5* 


106  IDOLATRY. 

"  This  sounds  more  real  than  hypothetical ! "  thought 
Helwyse. 

"  So  cunning  was  he,  he  reversed  in  her  mind  the 
universal  law.  Evil  was  good ;  good,  evil.  She  grew 
fast  and  strong,  for  evil  is  the  sweeter  food ;  it  is  rich 
earth  to  the  plant.  She  never  knew  that  evil  existed, 
yet  evil  was  all  she  knew  !  For  whatever  is  forced  re 
acts  ;  he  never  taught  her  positive  sin,  lest  she  per 
versely  turn  to  good." 

"Did  he  mean  insensibly  to  initiate  her  into  the 
knowledge  of  absolute  sin  ?  " 

"  Such  would  be  his  purpose,  —  such  would  be  his 
purpose.  To  make  her  a  devil,  without  the  chance  of 
knowing  it  possible  to  be  anything  else  ! " 

"  He  was  a  fool,"  growled  Helwyse.  "  The  plan  is 
folly,  —  impracticable  in  twenty  ways.  A  soul  cannot 
be  so  influenced.  Devils  are  not  made  by  education. 
The  only  devil  would  be  the  educator !  " 

But  the  voice  had  forgotten  his  presence.  It  ceased 
not  to  mutter  to  itself  while  he  was  speaking,  and  now 
it  broke  forth  again. 

"  Years  have  passed,  —  she  is  a  woman  now.  She 
knows  not  that  the  world  exists.  All  is  yet  latent 
within  her.  But  the  time  is  at  hand  when  the  hidden 
forces  shall  flower  !  Plunged  into  life,  with  nothing  to 
hold  by,  no  truth,  no  divine  help ;  her  marvellous 
powers  and  passions  in  full  strength,  —  all  trained  to 


THE  VOICE  OF  DARKNESS.  107 

drag  her  down,  —  not  one  aspiring ;  maddened  by  new 
thoughts,  limitless  opportunities  opening  before  her,  - 
she  will  plunge  into  such  an  abyss  of  sin  as  has  been 
undreamt  of  since  the  Deluge ! " 

"  Well,  —  what  of  it  ?  what  is  the  upshot  ? "  ques 
tioned  Helwyse  with  sullen  impatience.  The  emotion 
now  apparent  in  the  voice,  uncanny  though  it  was, 
counteracted  the  spell  wrought  by  its  purely  intel 
lectual  depravity.  Helwyse  was  perhaps  beginning 
to  understand  that  he  had  ventured  his  stock  of 
virgin  gold  for  a  handful  of  unclean  waste-paper! 

"  He  will  come  back,  —  her  father,  —  my  enemy  !  I 
have  waited  for  him  from  youth  to  age.  I  have  seen 
him  in  my  dreams,  and  in  visions.  I  am  with  him 
continually,  —  we  talk  together.  At  first,  cringingly 
and  softly,  I  lead  him  to  recall  the  past,  to  speak  of 
the  dead  wife,  —  the  lost  child,  —  her  baby  ways  and 
words.  I  lure  him  on  till  imagination  has  fired  his 
love  and  given  life  and  vividness  to  his  memory.  Then 
I  whisper,  —  She  lives  I  she  is  near !  in  a  moment  he 
shall  behold  her!  And  while  his  heart  beats  and 
he  trembles,  I  bring  her  forth  in  her  beauty.  Take 
her !  your  daughter !  the  one  devil  on  earth ;  but 
devils  shall  spring  like  grass  in  the  track  of  her 
footsteps ! " 

The  voice  had  worked  itself  into  a  frenzy,  and,  for 
getting  caution,  had  crazily  exposed  itself.  Its  owner 


108  IDOLATRY. 

was  probably  some  poor  lunatic,  subject  to  fits  of  mad 
ness.  But  Helwyse  was  full  of  scorn  and  anger,  born 
of  that  bitterest  disappointment  which  admits  not  even 
the  poor  consolation  of  having  worthily  aspired.  He 
had  been  duped,  —  and  by  the  cobwebs  of  a  madman's 
brain  I  He  broke  into  a  short  laugh,  harsh  to  the  ear, 
and  answering  to  no  mirthful  impulse. 

"  So !  you  are  the  hero  of  your  story  ?  You  have 
brooded  all  your  life  over  a  crazy  scheme  of  stabbing  a 
father  through  his  child,  until  you  have  become  as 
blind  as  you  are  vicious  !  As  for  the  girl,  you  may 
have  made  her  ignorant  and  stupid,  or  even  idiotic ; 
but  that  she  should  become  queen  of  Hell  or  anything 
of  that  kind  —  " 

He  stopped,  for  his  unseen  companion  was  evidently 
beyond  hearing  him.  The  man  seemed  to  be  actually 
struggling  in  a  fit,  —  gasping  and  choking.  It  was  a 
piteous  business,  —  not  less  piteous  than  revolting. 
But  Helwyse  felt  no  pity,  —  only  ugly,  hateful,  unre 
lenting  anger,  needing  not  much  stirring  to  blaze  forth 
in  fearful  passion.  Where  now  were  his  wise  saws,  — 
his  philosophic  indifference  ?  Self-respect  is  the  pith 
of  such  supports;  which  being  gone,  the  supports 
fail. 

"  My  music,  —  my  music  ! "  gasped  the  voice  ;  "  my 
music,  or  I  shall  die  ! " 

"Die?     Yes,  it  were  well   you   should  die.     You. 


THE   VOICE   OF  DARKNESS.  109 

cumber  the  earth  !  Shall  I  do  it  ? "  Helwyse  mut 
tered  to  his  heart,  —  "  merely  as  a  means  of  culture  ! " 
Perhaps  it  was  said  only  in  a  mood  of  sardonic 
jesting.  The  next  moment,  no  doubt,  Balder  Hel 
wyse  would  have  retired  to  his  cabin,  leaving  the 
voice  of  darkness  forever.  But  at  that  moment  the 
hurried  flash  of  a  lantern  on  the  captain's  bridge  fell 
full  on  the  young  man's  face  and  shoulders,  gleaming 
in  his  eyes,  and  lighting  up  the  masses  of  yellow  hair 
and  mighty  beard.  He  was  standing  with  one  hand 
resting  on  the  taffrail.  The  dim  halo  of  the  fog, 
folding  him  about,  made  him  look  like  a  spirit. 


X. 

HELWYSE  EESISTS  THE  DEVIL. 

AS  the  light  so  fell,  hoarse  voices  shouted,  and 
then  a  concussion  shivered  through  the  steamer, 
and  her  headway  was  slackened.  But  of  this  Hel- 
wyse  knew  nothing ;  for  the  voice  had  burst  forth  in 
a  cry  of  fear,  amazement,  and  hate ;  and  in  another 
breath  he  found  himself  clutched  tightly  in  long,  wiry 
arms,  and  felt  panting  breath  hot  against  his  face. 

He  struggled  at  first  to  free  himself,  —  but  he  was 
held  in  the  grip  of  a  madman  !  Then  did  the  turbid 
current  of  his  blood  begin  to  leap  and  tingle,  and 
strange  half-thoughts  darted  through  his  mind  like 
deformed  spectres,  capering  as  they  flew  !  The  bul 
wark  of  his  will  was  overthrown ;  he  could  not  poise 
himself  long  enough  to  recover  his  self-sway.  He  was 
sliding  headlong  down  a  steep,  the  velocity  momently 
increasing. 

Was  it  Balder  Helwyse  that  was  struggling  thus 
furiously,  his  body  full  of  fire,  his  brain  of  madness, 
his  heart  quick-beating  with  savage,  wicked,  thirsty 
joy  ?  His  soul  —  his  own  no  longer  —  was  bestridden 


HELWYSE   RESISTS   THE  DEVIL.  Ill 

by  a  frantic  demon,  who,  brimming  over  with  hot  glee, 
drove  him  whirling  blindly  on,  with  an  ever-growing 
purpose  that  surcharged  each  smallest  artery,  and  fur 
nished  a  condensed  dart  of  malice  wherewith  to  stab 
and  stab  again  the  opposing  soul.  He  waxed  every 
instant  madder,  wickeder,  more  devilishly  exultant  ; 
and  now,  although  panting,  breathless,  pricking  at 
every  pore  from  the  agony  of  the  strain,  he  could 
scarce  forbear  screaming  with  delight !  for  he  felt  he 
was  gaming,  and  —  0  ecstasy  !  —  knew  that  his  adver 
sary  felt  it  also,  and  that  his  heart  was  as  full  of 
black  despair  and  terror  as  was  his  conqueror's  of  in 
tolerable  triumph  !  Gaining  still ! 

Strange,  that  all  through  this  wild  frenzy  in  which 
body  and  soul  wrere  rapt,  the  essential  part  of  Balder 
Helwyse  seemed  to  be  looking  on,  with  a  curious, 
repellent  twist  of  feature,  commenting  on  what  was 
going  forward,  and  noting,  with  quiet  interest  and  pre 
cision,  each  varying  phase  of  the  struggle,  —  noting, 
as  of  significance,  that  the  sway  of  the  demon  of  mur 
der  made  the  idea  of  other  crimes  seem  beyond  words 
congenial,  enticing,  delicious  ! 

Steadily  through  this  storm  of  lawless  fury  has  the 
predestined  victory  been  drawing  near !  The  throb 
bing  of  his  enemy's  heart,  —  Helwyse  feels  it ;  did 
ever  lover  so  rejoice  in  the  palpitations  of  his  mis 
tress  ?  0  the  wine  of  life  !  drunk  from  the  cup 


112  IDOLATRY. 

of  murder !  Hear  how  the  wretch's  voice  breaks 
choking  from  his  throat !  —  he  would  beg  for  mercy, 
but  cannot,  shall  not !  Keep  your  fingers  in  his 
throat  ;  the  other  hand  creeps  warily  downwards. 
Now  hurl  him  up,  —  over  !  — 

But  with  what  an  ugly  gulp  the  black  water  swal 
lowed  his  body! 


XI. 

A  DEAD  WEIGHT. 

WAS  it  not  well  done  ?  Tempted  to  covet  imagi 
nary  wickedness,  Helwyse  was  ripe  for  real 
crime,  —  and  who  so  worthy  to  suffer  as  the  tempter  ? 

He  leaned  panting  against  the  taffrail.  His  pre 
dominant  feeling  was  that  he  had  been  ensnared.  His 
judgment  had  been  drugged,  and  he  had  been  lured  on 
to  evil.  An  infamous  conspiracy  ! 

His  breath  regained,  he  stood  upright  and  in  a  me 
chanical  manner  arranged  his  disordered  dress.  His 
haversack  was  gone,  —  had  been  torn  from  his  shoul 
ders  and  carried  overboard.  An  awkward  loss  !  for  it 
contained,  among  other  things,  valuable  letters  and 
papers  given  him  by  his  father ;  not  to  mention  a  note 
book  of  his  own,  and  Uncle  Glyphic's  miniature.  His 
dead  enemy  had  carried  off  the  proofs  of  his  murderer's 
identity ! 

Not  till  now  did  Helwyse  become  aware  of  an  un 
usual  tumult  on  the  steamer.  Had  they  seen  the 
deed  ?  —  He  stood  with  set  teeth,  one  hand  on  the  taff 
rail.  Eather  than  be  taken  alive,  he  would  leap  over ! 


114  IDOLATRY. 

But  it  soon  became  evident  that  the  nucleus  of  excite 
ment  was  elsewhere.  The  "  Empire  State  "  was  at  a 
stand-still.  Captain  and  mates  were  shouting  to  one 
another  and  at  the  sailors.  By  the  flying  light  of  the 
lanterns  Helwyse  caught  glimpses  of  the  sails  and  tall 
masts  of  a  schooner.  He  began  to  comprehend  what 
had  happened. 

"  Thank  God !  that  saves  me,"  he  said  with  a  sense 
of  relaxation.  Then  he  turned  and  peered  fearfully 
into  the  black  abyss  beyond  the  stern.  Nothing  there ! 
nothing  save  the  heavy  breathing  of  remorseless  waves. 

The  statistics  of  things  God  has  been  thanked  for,  — 
what  piquant  instances  would  such  a  collection  afford ! 
Any  unusual  stir  of  emotion  seems  to  impel  a  reference 
to  something  higher  than  the  world.  Only  a  bloodless 
calm  appears  to  be  secure  from  God's  interference.  It 
is  worthy  of  remark  that  this  was  the  first  time  in 
Helwyse's  career  —  at  least  since  his  arrival  at  years 
of  discretion  —  that  he  had  thanked  God  for  anything. 
This  was  not  owing  to  his  being  of  a  specially  ungrate 
ful  disposition,  but  to  peculiar  ,ideas  upon  the  subject 
of  a  Supreme  Being.  God,  he  believed,  was  no  more 
than  the  highest  phase  of  man ;  and  in  any  man  of 
sufficient  natural  endowment,  he  saw  a  possible  God : 
just  as  every  American  citizen  is  a  possible  President ! 
What  is  of  moment  at  present,  however,  is  the  fact 
that  the  young  man's  first  inconsistency  of  word  with 


A  DEAD  WEIGHT.  115 

creed  dates  at  the  time  his  self-control  forsook  him  on 
board  the  midnight  steamer. 

In  that  thanksgiving  prayer  his  passion  passed  away. 
After  unnaturally  distending  every  sense  and  faculty, 
it  suddenly  ebbed,  leaving  the  consciousness  of  an  irri 
tating  vacuum.  Something  must  be  done  to  fill  it. 
One  drawback  to  crime  seems  to  be  its  insufficiency  to 
itself.  It  creates  a  craving  which  needs  must  be  fed. 
The  demon  returns,  demanding  a  fresh  task ;  and  he 
returns  again  forever ! 

Helwyse,  therefore,  plunged  into  the  midst  of  the 
uproar  consequent  on  the  collision,  and  tried  to  absorb 
the  common  excitement,  —  to  identify  himself  with 
other  men ;  no  longer  to  be  apart  from  them  and  above 
them.  But  he  did  not  succeed.  It  seemed  as  though 
he  would  never  feel  excitement  or  warmth  in  the  blood 
again  !  His  deed  was  a  dead  weight  that  steadied  him 
spite  of  his  best  efforts.  His  aim  has  hitherto  been, 
not  to  forget  himself ;—  let  him  forget  himself  now 
if  he  can ! 

The  uproar  was  over  all  too  soon,  and  the  steamer 
once  more  under  way. 

"  No  serious  harm  done,  sir !  —  no  harm  done  ! "  ob 
served  a  spruce  steward. 

"  No  ;  no  harm." 

"  By  the  way,  sir,  —  thought  I  heard  some  one  sing 
out  aft  just  afore  we  struck.   You  heard  it,  sir?  Thought 
-  some  fellow  'd  gone  overboard,  may  be  ! " 


116  IDOLATRY. 

"  I  saw  no  one,"  answered  Helwyse ;  nor  had  he. 
But  he  turned  away,  fearing  that  the  brisk  steward 
might  read  prevarication  in  his  face.  No,  he  had  seen 
no  one ;  but  he  had  heard  a  plunge  !  He  revolted 
from  the  memory  of  it,  but  it  would  not  be  banished. 
Had  there  been  a  soul  in  the  body  before  it  made  that 
dive  ?  even  for  a  few  minutes  afterwards  ?  He  would 
have  given  much  to  know !  In  theorizing  about  crime, 
he  had  always  maintained  the  motive  to  be  all  in  all. 
But  now,  though  unable  to  controvert  the  logic  of 
his  assertion,  he  felt  it  told  less  than  the  whole  truth. 
He  recognized  a  divine  conservative  virtue  in  straws, 
and  grasped  at  the  smallest !  Through  the  long  tor 
ture  of  self-questioning  and  indecision,  let  us  not  fol 
low  him.  Uncertainty  is  a  ghastly  element  in  such  a 
matter. 

He  groped  his  way  back  to  the  taffrail.  Why,  he 
knew  not ;  but  there  he  was  at  last.  He  might  safely 
soliloquize  now ;  there  was  no  listener.  He  might  light 
a  cigar  and  smoke  ;  no  one  would  see  him.  Yet,  no  ; 
for,  on  second  thoughts,  his  cigars  had  gone  with  the 
haversack ! 

He  bent  over  the  slender  iron  railing.  Where  was 
-  it  now  ?  Miles  away  by  this  time,  swinging,  sway 
ing  down  —  down  —  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  Sound  ! 
Slowly  turning  over  as  it  sinks,  its  arms  now  thrown 
out,  now  doubled  underneath ;  the  legs  sprawling  help- 


A   DEAD  WEIGHT.  117 

lessly ;   the  head  wagging  loosely  on  the  dead  neck. 

0 

Down  —  down,  pitching  slowly  head  forwards;  right 
ing,  and  going  down  standing,  the  hair  floating  straight 
on  end.  Down  !  0,  would  it  never  be  done  sinking 

—  sinking  —  sinking  ?     Was  the  sea  deep  as  Hell  ? 
But   when  it  reached   the   bottom,   would    it    rest 

there  ?  No,  not  even  there.  It  would  drift  uneasily 
about  for  a  while  on  the  dark  sand,  the  green  gloom  of 
the  water  above  it.  Every  hour  it  would  grow  less  and 
less  heavy ;  by  and  by  it  would  begin  slowly  to  rise 

—  rise  !     Horrible  it  looked  now  ;  not  like  itself,  that 
had  been  horrible  enough  before.     Eising,  —  rising.     O 
fearful  thing  !  why  come  to  tell  dead  men's  tales  here  ? 
You  are  done  with  the  world.     What  wants  mankind 
with  you  ?     Begone  !  sink,  and  rise  no  more  !     It  will 
not  sink  ;  still  it  rises,  and  the  green  gloom  lightens  as 
it  slowly  buoys  upwards.     The  light  rests  shrinkingly 
on  it,  revealing  the  dreadful  features.     The  limbs  are 
no  longer  pliant,  but  stiff,  —  terribly  stiff  and  unyield 
ing.     Still  it  rises,  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  surface. 
See  where  the  throat  was-  gripped !     Up  it  comes  at 
last  in  the  morning  sun,  among  the  sparkling,  laughing, 
pure  blue  waves,  —  the  swollen,  dead  thing  !  —  dead  in 
the  midst  of  the  world's  life,  hideous  amidst  the  world's 
beauty.     It  bobs  and  floats,  and  will  sink  no  more ; 
would  rise  to  heaven  if  it  could  !     No  need  for  that. 
The  tide  takes  it  and  creeps  stealthily  with  it  towards 


118  IDOLATRY. 

the  shore,  and  casts  it,  with  shudder  and  recoil,  upon 
the  beach.  There  it  lies. 

Such  visions  haunted  Helwyse  as  he  leaned  over  the 
taffraiL  He  had  not  suspected,  at  starting,  upon  how 
long  a  voyage  he  was  bound.  How  many  hours  might 
it  be  since  he  and  the  cook  had  so  merrily  dined 
together  ?  Was  such  a  contrast  possible  ?  Surely  no 
more  monstrous  delusion  than  this  of  Time  ever  im 
posed  upon  mankind  !  For  months  and  years  he  jogs 
on  with  us,  a  dull  and  sober-paced  pedestrian.  Then 
comes  a  sudden  eternity !  But  Time  thrusts  a  clock 
in  our  faces,  and  shows  us  that  the  hands  have  marked 
a  minute  only.  Shall  we  put  faith  in  him  ? 

Helwyse  suffered  from  a  vivid  imagination.  He 
went  not  to  his  room  that  night.  He  kept  the  deck, 
and  tried  to  talk  with  the  men,  following  them  about 
and  asking  aimless  questions,  until  they  began  to  give 
him  short  answers.  Where  were  his  pride  and  his 
serene  superiority  to  the  friendship  or  enmity  of  his 
race  ?  where  his  philosophic  self-criticism  and  fanciful 
badinage  ?  his  resolute,  conquering  eyes  ?  his  bearing 
of  graceful,  careless  authority  ?  Had  all  these  attri 
butes  been  packed  in  his  haversack,  and  cast  with  that 
upon  the  waters  ?  and  would  they,  no  more  than  he  to 
whose  care  they  had  been  intrusted,  ever  return  ? 

With  each  new  hour,  morning  seemed  farther  off. 
In  his  objectless  wanderings,  Helwyse  came  to  the 


A  DEAD  WEIGHT.  119 

well  of  the  engine-room  and  hung  over  it,  gazing  at 
the  bright,  swift-sliding  machinery,  studying  the  parts, 
tracing  the  subtle  transmission  of  force  from  piece  to 
piece.  Here  at  last  was  companionship  for  him  !  The 
engine  was  a  beautiful  combination,  —  so  polished, 
effective,  and  logical ;  like  the  minds  of  some  philoso 
phers,  moving  with  superhuman  regularity  and  power, 
but  lifeless  ! 

Helwyse  watched  it  long,  till  finally  its  monotony 
wearied  him.  It  was  doing  admirable  work,  but  it 
never  swerved  from  its  course  at  the  call  of  senti 
ment  or  emotion.  Its  travesty  of  life  was  repulsive. 
Machinery  is  the  most  admirable  invention  of  man, 
but  is  modelled  after  no  heavenly  prototype,  and  will 
have  no  part  in  the  millennium.  It  seems  to  annul 
space  and  time,  yet  gives  us  no  taste  of  eternity. 
Man  lives  quicker  by  it,  but  not  more.  With  another 
kind  of  weapon  must  the  true  victory  over  matter  be 
achieved  ! 


M 


XII. 

MOEE  VAGAEIES. 

OST  benign  and  beautiful  was  the  morning. 
The  "  Empire  State  "  emerged  from  the  fog  and 
left  it,  a  rosy  cloud,  astern.  The  chasing  waves  spar 
kled  and  danced  for  joy.  The  sun  was  up,  fresh  and 
unstained  as  yesterday.  Night,  that  had  changed  so 
much,  had  left  the  sun  undimmed.  With  the  same 
power  and  brightness  as  for  innumerable  past  centu 
ries,  his  glorious  glance  colored  the  gray  sky  blue. 
Helwyse  —  he  was  at  the  stern  taffrail  again  —  looked 
at  the  marvellous  sphere  with  unwinking  eyes,  until  it 
blurred  and  swam  before  him,  and  danced  in  colored 
rings.  It  warmed  his  face,  but  penetrated  no  deeper. 
Looking  away,  black  suns  moved  everywhere  before  his 
eyes,  and  the  earth  looked  dim  and  shabby,  as  though 
blighted  by  a  curse. 

Helwyse  had  not  slept,  partly  from  disinclination  to 
the  solitude  of  his  berth,  partly  because  the  thought 
of  awakening  dismayed  him.  Nevertheless,  he  could 
scarcely  believe  in  what  had  happened,  now.  He 
stood  upon  the  very  spot ;  here  wras  the  semicircle  of 


MORE   VAGARIES.  121 

railing,  the  camp-stools,  the  white  cabin-wall  against 
which  he  had  leaned.  But  the  blackness  of  night  had 
so  utterly  past  away  that  it  seemed  as  though  the  deed 
done  in  it  must  in  some  manner  have  vanished  like 
wise.  What  is  fact  at  one  time  looks  unreal  at  an 
other.  It  must  be  associated  with  all  times  and  moods 
before  it  can  be  fully  comprehended  and  accepted. 

Glancing  down  at  the  deck,  Helwyse  saw  there  the 
cigar  he  had  been  smoking  the  night  before,  flattened 
out  by  the  tread  of  a  foot,  and  lying  close  beside  it  a 
sparkling  ring.  He  picked  it  up  ;  it  was  a  diamond  of 
purest  water,  curiously  caught  between  the  mouths  of 
two  little  serpents,  whose  golden  and  black  bodies, 
twisted  round  each  other,  formed  the  hoop.  Eealizing, 
after  a  moment,  from  whose  finger  it  must  have  fallen, 
he  had  an  impulse  to  fling  it  far  into  the  sea ;  but  his 
second  thought  was  not  to  part  from  it.  The  idea  of 
its  former  owner  must  indeed  always  be  hateful  to  his 
murderer ;  but  the  bond  between  their  souls  was  closer 
and  more  indissoluble  than  that  between  man  and 
wife ;  and  of  so  unnatural  a  union  this  ring  was  a  fair 
emblem.  Unnatural  though  the  union  were,  to  Hel 
wyse  it  seemed  at  the  time  better  than  total  solitude. 

He  felt  heavy  and  inelastic,  —  averse  to  himself,  but 
still  more  to  society.  He  wished  to  see  men  and 
women,  yet  not  to  be  seen  of  them.  He  had  used  to 
be  ready  in  speech,  and  willing  to  listen ;  now,  no  sub- 


122  IDOL  ATE  Y. 

ject  interested  him  save  one,  —  on  which  his  lips  must 
be  forever  closed.  When  the  sun  had  made  himself 
thoroughly  at  home  on  earth  and  in  heaven,  Helwyse 
went  to  his  state-room,  feeling  unclean  from  the  soul 
outwards.  While  making  his  toilet,  he  took  care  to 
leave  the  window-blind  up,  that  he  might  at  any  time 
see  the  blue  sky  and  water,  and  the  bright  shore,  with 
its  foliage  and  occasional  houses.  He  shrank  from  sev 
ering,  even  for  an  instant,  his  communication  with  the 
beneficent  spirit  of  nature.  And  yet  Nature  could  not 
comfort  him,  —  in  .  liis  extremest  need  he  found  her 
most  barren.  He  had  been  wont  to  rejoice  in  her  as 
the  creature  of  his  own  senses  ;  but  when  he  asked  her 
to  sympathize  with  his  pain,  she  laughed  at  him,  —  the 
magnificent  coquette !  —  and  bade  him,  since  she  was 
only  the  reflection  of  himself,  be  content  with  his 
own  sympathy.  Truly,  if  man  and  Nature  be  thus 
allied,  and  God  be  but  man  developed,  then  is  self-suffi 
ciency  the  only  virtue  worth  cultivating,  and  idolatry 
must  begin  at  home  ! 

His  efforts  to  improve  his  appearance  were  not  satis 
factory  ;  the  loss  of  his  toilet  articles  embarrassed  him 
not  a  little ;  and  he,  moreover,  lacked  zest  to  enter  into 
the  business  with  his  customary  care.  And  what  he 
did  was  done  not  merely  for  his  own  satisfaction,  as 
heretofore,  but  with  an  eye  to  the  criticisms  of  other 
people.  His  naively  unconscious  independence  had 


MORE  VAGARIES.  123 

got  a  blow.  After  doing  his  best  he  went  out,  pale 
and  heavy-eyed,  the  diamond  ring  on  his  finger. 

The  passengers  had  begun  to  assemble  in  the  cabin. 
It  seemed  to  Helwyse,  as  he  entered,  that  one  and  all 
turned  and  stared  at  him  with  suspicious  curiosity. 
He  half  expected  to  see  an  accuser  rise  up  and  point  a 
dreadful  finger  at  him.  But  in  truth  the  sensation  he 
created  was  no  more  than  common ;  it  was  his  morbid 
sensitiveness,  which  for  the  first  time  took  note  of  it. 
He  had  been  accustomed  to  look  at  himself  as  at  a 
third  person,  in  whose  faults  or  successes  he  was  alike 
interested;  but  although  his  present  mental  attitude 
might  have  moved  him  to  smile,  he,  in  fact,  felt  no  such 
impulse.  The  hue  of  his  deed  had  permeated  all  possi 
ble  forms  of  himself,  thus  barring  him  from  any  stand 
point  whence  to  see  its  humorous  aspect.  The  sun 
would  not  shine  on  it ! 

As  time  passed  on,  however,  and  no  one  offered  to 
denounce  him,  Helwyse  began  to  be  more  at  ease. 
Seeing  the  steward  with  whom  he  had  spoken  the 
night  before,  he  asked  him  whereabouts  he  supposed 
the  schooner  was. 

"  0,  she  '11  be  in  by  night,  sir,  safe  enough.  Wind  's 
freshened  up  a  good  bit  since ;  would  n't  take  her  long 
to  rig  a  new  bowsprit.  Beg  pardon,  sir,  did  you  hap 
pen  to  know  the  party  next  door  to  you  ? " 

"  I  know  no  one.     What  about  him  ? " 


124  IDOLATRY. 

"  Can't  find  him  nowhere,  sir.  Door  locked  this 
morning ;  had  n't  used  his  bed ;  must  have  come 
aboard,  for  there  was  a  violin  lying  on  the  bed  in  a 
black  box,  for  all  the  world  like  a  coffin,  sir.  Queer, 
ain't  it  ? " 

The  steward  was  called  away,  but  Helwyse's  uneasi 
ness  had  returned.  Did  this  fellow  suspect  nothing  ? 
The  student  of  men  could  not  read  his  face ;  the  power 
of  insight  seemed  to  have  left  him.  Reason  could  tell 
him  that  it  was  impossible  he  should  be  suspected,  but 
reason  no  longer  satisfied  him. 

He  left  the  cabin  and  once  more  sought  the  deck, 
harried  and  anxious.  Why  could  not  he  be  stolid  and 
indifferent,  as  were  many  worse  criminals  than  he  ? 
Or  was  his  disquiet  a  gauge  of  his  moral  accountabil 
ity  ?  By  as  much  as  he  was  more  finely  gifted  than 
other  men,  was  the  stain  of  sin  upon  his  soul  more 
ineffaceable  ?  Last  night,  ignorance  waft  the  only  evil ; 
but  had  he  been  satisfied  with  less  wisdom,  might  he 
not  have  sinned  with  more  impunity  ?  Nevertheless, 
Balder  Helwyse  would  hardly  have  been  willing  to 
purchase  greater  ease  at  the  price  of  being  less  a  man. 

The  steamer  descended  the  narrow  and  swift  current 
of  East  Eiver,  rounded  Castle  Garden,  and  reached  her 
pier  before  eight  o'clock.  Shoulder  to  shoulder  with 
the  other  passengers,  Helwyse  descended  the  gang 
plank.  The  official  who  took  his  ticket  eyed  him  so 


MORE   VAGARIES.  125 

closely  that  there  was  the  beginning  of  an  impulse  in 
his  weary  brain  to  knock  the  fellow  down.  Finding 
himself  not  interfered  with,  however,  he  passed  on  to 
the  rattling  street,  beginning  to  understand  that  the 
attention  he  excited  was  not  owing  to  a  visible  brand 
of  Cain,  but  to  his  beard  and  hair,  which  were  at  vari 
ance  with  the  fashion  of  that  day.  He  was  neither 
more  nor  less  a  cynosure  than  at  other  times.  But  he 
was  more  sensitive  to  notice,  and  it  now  occurred  to 
him  that  his  unique  appearance  was  unsafe  as  well  as 
irksome.  Were  a  certain  body  found,  in  connection 
with  evidence  more  or  less  circumstantial,  how  readily 
might  he  be  pointed  out !  He  fancied  himself  reading 
the  description  in  a  newspaper,  and  realized  how  many 
and  how  easily  noted  were  his  peculiarities.  His  care 
lessness  of  public  remark  had  been  folly.  The  sooner 
his  peculiarities  were  amended,  the  better! 

At  the  corner  of  the  street  stood  a  couple  of  police 
men, —  ponderous,  powerful  men,  able  between  them 
to  carry  to  jail  the  most  refractory  criminal.  One  path 
was  open  to  Helwyse,  whereby  to  recover  his  self- 
respect,  and  regain  his  true  footing  with  the  world; 
and  that  led  into  the  hands  of  those  policemen !  With 
a  revulsion  of  feeling  perhaps  less  strange  than  it 
seems,  he  walked  up  to  them,  resolved  to  surrender 
himself  on  a  charge  of  murder.  It  was  the  simplest 
issue  to  his  embarrassments. 


126  IDOLATRY. 

"  Policemen  ! "  he  began,  with  a  return  of  his  as 
sured  voice  and  bearing.  They  stared  at  him,  and  one 
said,  "  How  ? " 

"  Direct  me  to  the  best  hotel  near  here  !  "  said  Hel- 
wyse. 

They  stared,  and  told  him  the  way  to  the  Astor 
House. 

There  had  been  but  the  briefest  hesitation  in  Hel- 
wyse's  mind,  but  during  that  pause  he  had  reconsid 
ered  his  resolve  and  said  No  to  it.  Eemembering 
some  episodes  of  his  past  history,  he  cannot  hastily  be 
accused  of  vulgar  fear  of  death.  In  his  case,  indeed,  it 
may  have  required  more  courage  to  close  his  mouth 
than  to  open  it.  Be  that  as  it  might,  the  question  as 
to  the  degree  and  nature  of  his  guilt  was  still  unsettled 
in  his  mind.  Moreover,  had  he  been  clear  on  this 
point,  he  yet  distrusted  the  competence  of  human  laws 
to  do  him  justice.  He  shrank  from  surrender,  less  as 
affecting  his  person  than  as  superseding  his  judgment. 
But,  failing  himself  and  mankind,  to  what  other  court 
can  he  appeal  ?  Should  the  fitting  tribunal  appear,  will 
he  have  the  nerve  to  face  it  ? 

He  did  not  go  to  the  Astor  House,  notwithstanding 
the  trouble  he  had  taken  to  ask  his  way  thither.  He 
coasted  along  the  more  obscure  thoroughfares,  seeming 
to  find  something  congenial  in  them.  Here  were  peo 
ple,  many  of  whom  had  also  committed  crimes,  whose 


MORE  VAGARIES.  127 

eyes  lie  need  not  shun  to  meet,  who  were  his  brethren. 
To  be  sure,  they  gave  him  no  friendly  glances,  taking 
him  for  some  dainty  aristocrat,  whom  idle  curiosity  had 
led  to  their  domains.  But  Helwyse  knew  the  secret 
of  his  kinship;  and  he  perhaps  indulged  a  wild  mo 
mentary  dream  of  proclaiming  himself  to  them,  entering 
into  their  life,  and  vanishing  from  that  world  that  had 
known  him  heretofore.  It  is  a  shorter  step  than  is 
generally  supposed,  from  human  height  to  human 
degradation. 

A  pale  girl  with  handsome  features,  careless  expres 
sion,  and  somewhat  disordered  hair,  leant  out  of  a  low 
window,  her  loose  dress  falling  partly  open  from  her 
bosom  as  she  did  so. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  my  love  ?  "  inquired  she,  with 
a  professionally  attractive  smile.  "Are  n't  you  going 
to  give  me  a  lock  of  that  sweet  yellow  hair  ?  —  there  's 
a  duck  ! " 

It  so  happened  that  Helwyse  had  never  before  been 
openly  accosted  by  a  member  of  this  class  of  the  com 
munity.  Was  this  infringement  of  the  rule  the  result 
of  his  own  fall,  or  of  the  girl's  exceptional  effrontery  ? 
He  had  an  indignant  glance  ready  poised,  but  forbore 
to  hurl  it !  The  worst  crime  of  the  young  woman  was 
that  she  disposed  of  herself  at  a  rate  of  remuneration 
exactly  corresponding  to  the  value  of  the  commodity  ; 
whereas  he,  less  economical  and  orderly,  had  mortgaged 


128  IDOLATRY. 

his  own  soul  by  disposing  of  some  one  else's  body,  and 
was,  if  anything,  out  of  pocket  by  the  transaction! 
Undoubtedly  the  young  woman  had  the  best  of  it; 
very  likely,  had  she  been  aware  of  the  circumstances, 
she  would  not  have  deigned  him  so  much  as  a  smile. 
He  therefore  neither  yielded  to  her  solicitations  nor 
rebuked  them,  but  passed  on.  The  adventure  recti 
fied  his  fraternizing  impulse.  Albeit  standing  account 
ant  for  so  great  a  sin,  the  mire  was  as  yet  alien  to 
him. 

But  there  was  pertinence  in  the  young  woman's 
question;  where  was  he  going,  indeed?  Since  the 
catastrophe  on  board  the  steamer,  he  had  forgotten 
Doctor  Glyphic.  He  felt  small  inclination  to  meet 
his  relative  now;  but  certain  considerations  of  per 
sonal  interest  no  longer  wore  the  same  color  as  yes 
terday.  Eobbed  of  his  self-respect,  he  could  ill  af 
ford  to  surrender  worldly  wealth  into  the  bargain. 
On  the  other  hand,  to  palm  himself  off  on  his  uncle 
for  a  true  man  was  adding  hypocrisy  to  his  other 
crime. 

Such  an  objection,  however,  could  hardly  have  turned 
the  scale.  Great  crimes  are  magnets  of  smaller  ones. 
It  was  necessary  for  Helwyse  to  alter  the  whole  scheme 
of  his  life-voyage  ;  and  since  he  had  failed  in  beating 
up  against  the  wind,  why  not  make  all  sail  before 
it  ?  Meanwhile,  it  was  easier  to  call  on  Doctor  Glyphic 


MORE   VAGARIES.  129 

than  to  devise  a  new  course  of  action ;  and  thus,  had 
matters  been  allowed  to  take  their  natural  turn,  mere 
inertia  might  have  brought  about  their  meeting. 

But  the  irony  of  events  turns  our  sternest  resolves  to 
ridicule.  On  the  next  street-corner  was  a  hair-dresser's 
shop,  its  genial  little  proprietor,  plump  and  smug,  rub 
bing  his  hands  and  smiling  in  the  doorway.  Beholding 
the  commanding  figure  of  the  yellow-bearded  young 
aristocrat,  afar  off,  his  professional  mouth  watered  over 
him.  What  a  harvest  for  shears  and  razor  was  here  ! 
Dare  he  hope  that  to  him  would  be  intrusted  the  glo 
rious  task  of  reaping  it  ? 

As  Helwyse  gained  the  corner,  his  weary  eyes  took 
in  the  smiling  hair- dresser,  the  little  room  beyond  cheer 
ful  with  sunshine  and  colored  paper-hangings,  and  the 
padded  chair  for  customers  to  recline  in.  Here  might 
he  rest  awhile,  and  rise  up  a  new  man,  —  a  stranger  to 
himself  and  to  all  who  had  known  him.  It  was  fitting 
that  the  inward  change  should  take  effect  without ;  not 
to  mention  that  the  wearing  of  so  conspicuous  a  mane 
was  as  unsafe  as  it  was  unsuitable. 

He  entered  the  shop,  therefore,  —  the  proprietor  back 
ing  and  bowing  before  him,  —  and  sat  down  with  a 
sigh  in  the  padded  chair.  Immediately  he  was  en 
veloped  in  a  light  linen  robe,  a  towel  was  tucked  in 
round  his  neck  by  deft  caressing  fingers,  the  soothing 
murmur  of  a  voice  was  in  his  ear,  and  presently 

6* 


130  IDOLATRY. 

sounded  the  click-click  of  shears.     The  descendant  of 
the  Vikings  closed  his  eyes  and  felt  comfortable. 

The  peculiar  color  and  luxuriance  of  Balder's  hair 
and  beard  were  marked  attributes  of  the  Helwyse  line. 
In  these  days  of  ponderous  genealogies,  who  would  be 
surprised  to  learn  that  the  family  sprang  from  that 
Balder,  surnamed  the  Beautiful,  who  was  the  sun-god 
of  Scandinavian  mythology  ?  Certain  of  his  distinctive 
characteristics,  both  physical  and  mental,  would  appear 
to  have  been  perpetuated  with  marvellous  distinctness 
throughout  the  descent ;  above  all,  the  golden  locks, 
the  blue  eyes,  and  the  sunny  disposition. 

For  the  rest,  so  far  as  sober  history  can  trace  them 
back,  they  seem  to  have  been  a  noble  and  adventurous 
race  of  men,  loving  the  sea,  but  often  taking  a  high 
part  in  the  political  affairs  of  the  nation.  The  sons 
were  uniformly  fair,  but  the  daughters  dark,  —  owing, 
it  was  said,  to  the  first  mother  of  the  line  having  been 
a  dark-eyed  woman.  But  the  advent  of  a  dark-eyed 
heir  had  been  foretold  from  the  earliest  times,  not 
without  ominous  (albeit  obscure)  hints  as  to  the  part 
he  would  play  in  the  family  history.  The  precise 
wording  of  none  of  these  old  prophecies  has  come 
down  to  us ;  but  they  seem  in  general  to  have  inti 
mated  that  the  dark-eyed  Helwyse  would  bring  the 
race  to  a  ruinous  and  disgraceful  end,  saving  on  the 
accomplishment  of  conditions  too  improbable  to  de- 


MORE  VAGARIES.  131 

serve  recording.  The  dead  must  return  to  life,  the 
living  forsake  their  identity,  love  unite  the  blood  of 
the  victim  to  that  of  the  destroyer, —  and  other  yet 
stranger  things  must  happen  before  the  danger  could 
be  averted. 

The  superstitious  reverence  paid  to  enigmatical 
utterances  of  this  kind  has  long  ago  passed  away  ; 
and,  if  any  meaning  ever  attaches  to  them,  it  is  apt 
to  be  sadly  commonplace.  Nevertheless,  when  Balder 
was  born,  and  the  hereditary  blue  eyes  were  found 
wanting,  the  circumstance  was  doubtless  the  occasion 
of  much  half-serious  banter  among  those  to  whom 
the  ominous  prophecies  were  familiar.  Certainly  the 
young  man  had  already  made  one  grave  mistake ;  and 
he  could  hardly  have  followed  it  up  by  a  more  dis 
graceful  retreat  than  this  to  the  hair-dresser's  saloon. 
The  ghosts  of  his  heroic  forefathers  in  Valhalla  would 
disown  his  shorn  head  with  indignant  scorn ;  for  their 
golden  locks  had  ever  been  sacred  to  them  as  their 
honor.  When  the  Roman  Empire  was  invaded  by  the 
Goths  and  Vandals,  a  Helwyse  —  so  runs  the  tale  — 
was  taken  prisoner  and  brought  before  the  Eomau 
General.  The  latter  summoned  a  barber  and  a  heads 
man,  and  informed  the  captive  that  he  might  choose 
between  forfeiting  his  head,  and  that  which  grew  upon 
it.  As  to  the  precise  words  in  which  the  Northern 
warrior  couched  his  reply,  -historians  vary ;  but  they 


132  IDOLATRY. 

are  agreed  on  the  important  point  that  his  head  was 
chopped  off  without  delay  ! 

Did  the  memory  of  these  things  bring  no  blush  to 
Balder's  cheeks  ?  There  he  sat,  as  indifferent,  to  all 
outward  seeming,  as  though  he  were  asleep.  But  this 
may  have  been  the  apathy  consequent  on  the  abandon 
ment  of  lofty  pretensions  and  sublime  ambitions  ;  be 
traying  proud  sensitiveness  rather  than  base  lack  of 
feeling.  Balder  Helwyse  was  not  the  first  man  of 
parts  to  appear  in  an  undignified  and  unheroic  light. 
The  foremost  man  of  all  this  world  once  whined  like  a 
sick  girl  for  his  physic,  and  preposterously  overesti 
mated  his  swimming  powers ;  yet  his  greatness  found 
him  out ! 

In  sober  earnest,  however,  what  real  importance  at 
taches  to  Helwyse's  doings  at  this  juncture  ?  Physi 
cally  and  mentally  weary,  he  may  have  acted  from  the 
most  ordinary  motives.  As  to  his  entertaining  any 
superstitious  crotchets  about  having  his  hair  cut,  — 
the  spirit  of  the  age  forbid  it! 


XIII. 

THEOUGH   A  GLASS. 

THE  hair-dresser  had  the  quality —  now  rare  among 
his  class  —  of  unlimited  and  self-enjoying  lo 
quacity;  soothing,  because  its  little  waves  lapsed  in 
objectless  prattle  on  the  beach  of  the  apprehension,  to 
be  attended  to  or  not  at  pleasure.  The  sentences 
were  without  regular  head  or  tail,  and  were  connected 
by  a  friendly  arrangement  between  themselves,  rather 
than  by  any  logical  sequence ;  while  the  recurring 
pauses  at  interesting  epochs  of  work  wrought  a  rec 
ognition  of  how  caressing  had  been  the  easy  voice, 
and  accumulated  a  lazy  disposition  to  hear  it  con 
tinue. 

After  decking  Helwyse  for  the  sacrifice,  he  had 
murmured  confidentially  in  his  ear,  "  Hair,  sir  ?• —  or 
beard,  sir  ?  —  or  both  ?  —  little  of  both,  sir  ?  Just 
so.  Hair  first,  please,  sir.  Love-ly  morning ! " 

And  thereupon  began  to  clip  and  coo  and  whisk 
softly  about,  in  the  highest  state  of  barberic  joy. 
As  he  worked,  inspired  by  the  curly,  flowing  glossy 
locks  which,  to  his  eye,  called  inarticulately  for  the 


134  IDOLATRY. 

tools  of  his  trade,  his  undulating  monologue  welled 
forth  until  Coleridge  might  have  envied  him.  Hel- 
wyse  heard  the  sound,  but  let  the  words  go  by  to 
that  unknown  limbo  whither  all  sounds,  good  or  bad, 
have  been  flying  since  time  began. 

By  and  by  the  hair  was  done ;  there  ensued  a 
plying  of  brushes,  a  blowing  down  the  neck,  and  a 
shaking  out  of  the  linen  apron. 

"  Will  you  cast  your  eyes  on  the  mirror  now,  sir, 
please  ? " 

"No, —  go  on  and  finish,  first,"  replied  Helwyse; 
and  forthwith  a  cushion  was  insinuated  beneath  his 
head,  and  his  feet  were  elevated  upon  a  rest.  He 
heard  the  preparation  of  the  warm  lather,  and  anon 
the  knowing  strapping  of  a  razor.  He  put  up  his 
hand  and  stroked  his  beard  for  the  last  time,  won 
dering  how  he  would  look  without  it. 

"  Never  saw  the  like  before,  sir  ;  must  have  annoyed 
you  dreadful ! "  remarked  tl;e  commiserating  barber,  as 
he  passed  the  .preparatory  scissors  round  his  customer's 
jaw,  mowing  the  great  golden  sheaf  at  one  sweep. 
He  spoke  of  it  as  though  it  were  a  cancer  or  other 
painful  excrescence,  the  removal  of  which  would  be 
to  the  sufferer  a  boon  unspeakable. 

Helwyse's  face  expressed  neither  anguish  nor  relief ; 
he  presently  lost  himself  in  thoughts  of  his  own,  only 
returning  to  the  perception  of  outside  things  when 


THROUGH   A   GLASS.  135 

the  barber  asked  him  whether  he,  also,  had  ever 
attended  camp-meeting ;  the  subject  being  evidently 
one  which  had  been  held  forth  upon  for  some  time 
past. 

"  No  ? "  continued  the  little  man,  who  by  long  prac 
tice  had  acquired  a  wonderful  power  of  interpreting 
silence.  "  Well,  it 's  a  great  thing,  sir ;  and  a  right 
curious  thing  is  experiencing  religion,  too  !  A  great 
blessing  I  Ve  found  it,  sir ;  there 's  a  peace  dwells 
with  me,  as  the  minister  says,  right  along  all  the  time 
now.  Does  the  razor  please  you,  sir  ?  Ah  !  I  was  a 
wild  and  godless  being  once,  although  always  reckoned 
a  smart  hand  with  the  razor ;  • —  Satan  never  took  my 
cunning  hand,  as  the  poet  says,  away  from  me.  Yes, 
there  was  a  time  when  I  was  how-d'  y'-do  with  all 
the  bloods  around  the  place,  and  a  good  business  I 
used  to  do  out  of  them,  too,  sir ;  but  religion  is  a 
peace  there  's  no  understanding,  as  the  Good  Book 
says ;  and  if  I  don't  make  all  I  used  to,  I  save  twice 
as  much,  —  and  that 's  the  good  of  it,  sir.  Beau-ti-ful 
chin  is  yours,  sir,  I  declare  ! " 

"  Do  you  believe  in  the  orthodox  faith  ?  "  demanded 
Helwyse  ;  "  in  miracles,  and  the  Trinity,  and  so  forth  ? " 

"  Everything  we  're  told  to  believe  in  I  believe,  I 
hope,  sir ;  and  as  quick  as  I  hear  anything  more, 
why,  I  'm  ready  to  believe  that  also,  provided  only  it 
comes  through  orthodox  channels,  as  the  saying  is. 


136  IDOLATRY. 

Ah,  sir,  it's  the  unquestioning  belief  that  brings  the 
happiness.  I  would  n't  have  anything  explained  to  me, 
not  if  I  could  !  and  my  faith  is  such,  that  what  goes 
against  it  I  never  would  believe,  not  if  you  proved  it 
to  me  black  and  white,  sir  !  Love-ly  skin  you  Ve 
got,  sir,  —  it's  just  like  a  woman's.  The  intellect  is 
a  snare,  that 's  what  it  is,  —  ah,  yes  !  You  think 
with  me,  sir,  don't  you  ? " 

But  Helwyse  had  relapsed  into  silence.  The  little 
hair-dresser  was  happy,  was  lie  ?  —  happy,  and  hopeful, 
and  conscious  of  spiritual  progress  ?  —  had  no  misgiv 
ings  and  feared  no  danger,  —  because  he  had  elimi 
nated  reason  from  his  scheme  of  religion  !  Divine 
reason,  —  could  man  live  without  it  ?  A  snare  ?  — 
Well,  had  not  Balder  found  it  so  ? 

True,  that  was  not  reason's  fault,  but  his  who  mis 
used  reason.  True,  also,  that  he  who  believed  on  others' 
authority  believed  not  ideas  but  men,  and  was  desti 
tute  of  self-reliance  or  dignity.  Yet  the  hair-dresser 
seemed  to  find  in  that  very  dependence  his  best  hap 
piness,  and  to  have  built  up  a  factitious  self-respect 
from  the  very  ruin  of  true  dignity.  His  position  was 
the  antipodes  of  Balder's,  yet,  if  results  were  evidence, 
it  was  tenable  and  more  successful. 

This  plump,  superficial,  smiling  little  hair-dresser  was 
a  person  of  no  importance,  yet  it  happened  to  him  to 
modify  not  only  Helwyse's  external  aspect,  but  the 


THROUGH  A   GLASS.  137 

aspect  of  his  -mind  as  well,  —  by  the  presentation  of 
a  new  idea ;  for,  strange  to  say,  Helwyse  had  never 
chanced  to  doubt  that  seraphim  were  higher  than 
cherubim,  or  that  independence  was  the  only  ladder 
to  heaven.  To  be  taught  by  one  avowedly  without 
intellect  is  humiliating;  hut  the  experience  of  many 
will  furnish  examples  of  a  ifingular  disregard  of  this 
kind  of  proprieties. 

When  the  shaving  was  done  to  the  artist's  satisfac 
tion,  he  held  the  mirror  before  his  customer's  face. 
Helwyse  looked  narrowly  at  his  reflection,  as  was  natu 
ral  in  making  the  acquaintance  of  one  who  was  to  be 
his  near  and  intimate  companion.  He  beheld  a  set 
of  features  strongly  yet  gracefully  built,  but  shorn  of 
a  certain  warm,  manly  attractiveness.  The  immediate 
visibility  of  mouth  and  chin  —  index  of  so  large  a 
part  of  man's  nature  —  startled  him.  He  was  dis 
mayed  at  the  ease  wherewith  the  working  of  emotion 
might  now  be  traced.  Man  wholly  unveiled  to  him 
self  is  indeed  an  awful  spectacle,  be  the  dissection- 
room  that  of  the  surgeon  or '  of  the  psychologist. 
Hardly  might  angels  themselves  endure  it.  A  meas 
ure  of  ignorance  of  ourselves  is  wise,  because  con 
sciousness  of  a  weakness  may  lead  us  to  give  it  rein. 
Perfect  strength  can  coexist  only  with  perfect  knowl 
edge,  but  neither  is  attainable  by  man.  Man  should 
pray  to  be  screened  from  himself,  lest  his  sword 


138  IDOLATRY. 

fail,  —  lest  the  Gorgon's  head  on  his  breast  change 
him  to  stone. 

The  gracious,  outflowering  veil  of  Balder  Helwyse's 
life  had  vanished,  leaving  nakedness.  Henceforth  he 
must  depend  on  fence,  feint  and  guard,  not  on  the 
downright  sword-stroke.  With  Adam,  the  fig-leaf  suc 
ceeded  innocence  as  a  garment ;  for  Helwyse,  artificial 
address  must  do  duty  as  a  fig-leaf.  The  day  of  guilt 
less  sincerity  was  past ;  gone  likewise  the  day  of  open 
acknowledgment  of  guilt.  Now  dawned  the  day  of 
counterfeiting,  —  not  always  the  shortest  of  our  mor 
tal  year. 

On  the  whole,  Helwyse's  new  face  pleased  him  not. 
He  felt  self-estranged  and  self-distrustful.  Standing 
on  the  borders  of  a  darker  land,  the  thoughts  and 
deeds  of  his  past  life  swarmed  in  review  before  his 
eyes.  Many  a  seeming  trifling  event  now  showed  as 
the  forewarning  of  harm  to  come.  The  day's  journey 
once  over,  we  see  its  issue  prophesied  in  each  trum 
pery  raven  and  cloud  that  we  have  met  since  morn 
ing.  However,  the  omens  would  have  read  as  well 
another  way ;  for  nature,  like  man,  is  twofold,  and  can 
be  as  glibly  quoted  to  Satan's  advantage  as  to  God's. 

"  Very  well  done  ! "  said  Helwyse  to  the  barber, 
passing  a  hand  over  the  close-cropped  head  and  pol 
ished  chin.  "The  only  trouble  is,  it  cannot  be  done 
once  for  all." 


THROUGH  A   GLASS.  139 

As  the  little  man  smilingly  remarked,  however,  the 
charge  was  but  ten  cents.  His  customer  paid  it  and 
went  out,  and  was  seen  by  the  hair-dresser  to  walk 
listlessly  up  the  street.  The  improvement  in  his  per 
sonal  appearance  had  not  mended  his  spirits.  Indeed, 
it  cannot  be  disguised  that  his  trouble  was  more  seri 
ous  than  lay  within  a  barber's  skill  altogether  to  set 
right. 

Were  man  potentially  omniscient,  then  might  Bal- 
der's  late  deed  be  no  crime,  but  a  simple  exercise  of 
prerogative.  But  is  knowledge  of  evil  real  knowledge  ? 
God  is  goodness  and  man  is  evil.  God  knows  both 
good  and  evil.  Man  knows  evil  —  knows  himself  — 
only;  knows  God  only  in  so  far  as  he  ceases  to  be 
man  and  admits  God.  But  this  simple  truth  becomes 
confused  if  we  fancy  a  possible  God  in  man. 

This  was  Balder's  difficulty.  Possessed  of  a  strong, 
comprehensive  mind,  he  had  made  a  providence  of 
himself ;  confounded  intelligence  with  integrity ;  used 
the  moral  principle  not  as  a  law  of  action  but  as  a 
means  of  insight.  The  temptation  so  to  do  is  strong 
in  proportion  as  the  mind  is  greatly  gifted.  But  expe 
rience  shows  no  good  results  from  yielding  to  it.  Blind 
moral  instinct,  if  not  safer,  is  more  comfortable  ! 

Not  the  deed  alone,  but  the  revelation  it  brought, 
preyed  on  the  young  man's  peace.  If  he  were  a  crimi 
nal  to-day,  then  was  the  whole  argument  of  his  past 


140 


IDOLATRY. 


life  criminal  likewise.  Yesterday's  deed  was  the  logi 
cal  outcome  of  a  course  of  thought  extending  over 
many  yesterdays.  Why,  then,  had  not  his  present 
gloom  impended  also,  and  warned  him  beforehand  ? 
Because,  while  parleying  with  the  Devil,  he  looks 
angelic  ;  but  having  given  our  soft-spoken  interlocutor 
house-room,  he  makes  up  for  lost  time  by  becoming 
direfully  sincere ! 

On  first  facing-  the  world  in  his  new  guise,  Helwyse 
felt  an  embarrassment  which  he  fancied  everybody 
must  remark.  But,  in  fact  (as  he  was  not  long  discov 
ering),  he  was  no  longer  remarkable;  the  barber  had 
wiped  out  his  individuality.  It  was  what  he  had 
wished,  and  yet  his  insignificance  annoyed  him.  The 
stare  of  the  world  had  put  him  out  of  countenance ;  yet 
when  it  stopped  staring  he  was  still  unsatisfied.  What 
can  be  the  solution  of  this  paradox  ? 

It  perhaps  was  the  occasion  of  his  seeking  the  upper 
part  of  the  city,  where  houses  were  more  scarce  and 
there  were  fewer  people  to  be  unconcerned  !  In  coun 
try  solitudes  he  could  still  be  the  chief  figure.  He 
entered  Broadway  at  the  point  where  Grace  Church 
stands,  and  passed  on  through  the  sparsely  inhabited 
region  now  known  as  Union  Square.  The  streets  here 
abouts  were  but  roughly  marked  out,  and  were  left  in 
many  places  to  the  imagination.  On  the  corner  of 
Twenty-third  Street  was  a  low  whitewashed  inn,  whose 


THROUGH  A   GLASS.  141 

spreading  roof  overshadowed  the  girdling  balcony. 
Farmers'  wagons  were  housed  beneath  the  adjoining 
shed,  and  one  was  drawn  up  before  the  door,  its  driver 
conversing  with  a  personage  in  shirt-sleeves  and  straw 
hat,  answering  to  the  name  of  Corporal  Thompson. 

Helwyse  perhaps  stopped  at  the  Corporal's  hospitable 
little  establishment  to  rest  himself  and  get  some  break 
fast  ;  but  whether  or  not,  his  walk  did  not  end  here, 
but  continued  up  Broadway,  and  after  passing  a  large 
kitchen-garden  (whose  owner,  a  stout  Dutchman,  was 
pacing  its  central  path,  smoking  a  long  clay  pipe  which 
he  took  from  his  lips  only  to  growl  guttural  orders  to 
the  gardeners  who  were  stooping  here  and  there  over 
the  beds),  emerged  into  open  country,  where  only  an 
occasional  Irish  shanty  broke  the  solitude. 

How  long  the  young  man  walked  he  never  knew ; 
but  at  length,  from  the  summit  of  a  low  hill,  he  looked 
northwest  and  saw  the  gleam  of  Hudson  Kiver.  Leav 
ing  the  road  he  struck  across  rocky  fields  which  finally 
brought  him  to  the  river-bank.  A  stony  promontory 
jutted  into  the  water,  and  on  this  (having  clambered  to 
its  outer  extremity)  Helwyse  sat  down,  his  feet  over 
hanging  the  swirling  current.  The  tide  was  just  past 
the  flood. 

About  two  hundred  yards  up  stream,  to  the  north 
ward,  stood  a  small  wooden  house,  on  the  beach  in 
front  of  which  a  shabby  old  mariner  was  bailing  out 


142  IDOLATRY. 

his  boat.  Southwards,  some  miles  away,  curved  the 
shadowed  edge  of  the  city,  a  spire  mounting  here  and 
there,  a  pencilled  mist  of  smoke  from  chimneys,  a  fringe 
of  thready  masts  around  the  farthest  point.  In  front 
slid  ceaselessly  away  the  vast  sweep  of  levelled  water, 
and  still  it  came  undiminished  on.  The  opposing  shore 
was  a  mile  distant,  its  rocky  front  gradually  gaining 
abruptness  and  height  until  lost  round  the  northern 
curve.  But  directly  opposite  Helwyse's  promontory, 
the  stony  wall  was  for  some  way  especially  precipitous 
and  high,  its  lofty  brink  serried  with  a  thick  phalanx 

of  trees. 

i 

This  spot  finally  monopolized  the  adventurer's  atten 
tion  ;  had  he  been  in  Germany,  he  would  have  looked 
for  gray  castle-towers  rising  behind  the  foliage.  The 
place  looked  inaccessible  and  romantic,  and  was  unde 
niably  picturesque.  New  York  was  far  enough  away 
to  be  mistaken  for  —  say  —  Alexandria  ;  while  the 
broad  river  certainly  took  its  rise  in  as  prehistoric  an 
age  as  the  Nile  itself.  Perhaps  in  the  early  morning 
of  the  world  some  chieftain  built  his  stronghold  there, 
and  fought  notable  battles  and  gave  mighty  feasts ;  and 
later  married,  and  begat  stalwart  sons,  or  a  daughter 
beautiful  as  earth  and  sky  !  Where  to-day  were  her 
youth  and  beauty,  her  loving  noble  heart,  her  warm 
melodious  voice,  her  eyes  full  of  dark  light  ?  Why 
were  there  no  such  women  now  ?  —  not  warped,  imper- 


THROUGH  A   GLASS.  143 

feet,  only  half  alive  in  body  and  spirit ;  but   charged 
from  the  heart  outwards  with  pure  divine  vitality,— 
natures  vivid  as  fire,  yet  by  strength  serene ! 

"  Why  did  not  I  live  when  she  lived,  to  marry  her  ? " 
muttered  Helvvyse  in  a  dream.  "  A  woman  whose  in 
finite  variety  age  could  not  alter  nor  custom  stale  !  A 
true  wife  would  have  kept  me  from  error.  What  man 
can  comprehend  the  world,  if  he  puts  half  the  world 
away  ?  Now  it  is  too  late ;  she  might  have  helped 
me  rise  to  greatness,  but  not  to  bear  disgrace.  Ah, 
Balder  Helwyse,  poor  fool  !  you  babble  as  if  she 
stood  before  you  to  take  or  leave.  You  rise  to  great 
ness  ?  You  never  had  the  germs  of  greatness  in 
you !  You  are  so  little  that  not  the  goddess  Freya 
herself  could  have  made  you  tall !  Through  what  de 
lusion  did  you  fancy  yourself  better  than  any  other 
worm  ? " 

There  was  an  interval,  not  more  than  a  rod  or  two  in 
width,  in  the  tree-hedge  which  lined  the  opposite  cliff. 
Through  this  one  might  get  a  narrow  glimpse  of  what 
lay  beyond.  A  strip  of  grassy  lawn  extended  in  front 
of  what  seemed  to  be  the  stone  corner  of  a  house.  The 
distance  obscured  detail,  but  it  looked  massively  built, 
though  not  after  the  modern  style.  As  Helwyse  gazed, 
sharpening  his  eyes  to  discern  more  clearly,  he  saw  a 
figure  moving  across  the  lawn  directly  towards  him. 
Advancing  to  the  brink  of  the  cliff,  it  there  paused  and 


144  IDOLATRY. 

seemed  to  return  his  glance.  Helwyse  could  not  tell 
whether  it  were  man  or  woman.  Had  the  river  only 
been  narrower ! 

The  next  moment  he  remembered  his  telescope,  and, 
taking  it  from  its  case,  he  was  at  a  bound  within  one 
hundred  yards  of  the  western  shore.  Man  or  woman  ? 
he  steadied  the  glass  on  his  knee  and  looked  again. 
A  woman,  surely,  —  but  how  strangely  dressed  !  Such 
a  costume  had  not  been  in  vogue  since  Damascus  was 
a  new  name  in  men's  mouths.  Balder  gazed  and  gazed. 
Accurately  to  distinguish  the  features  was  impossible,  — 
tantalizingly  so ;  for  the  gazer  was  convinced  that  she 
was  both  young  and  beautiful.  Her  motions,  her  bear 
ing,  the  graceful  peculiarity  of  her  garb,  —  a  hundred 
nameless  evidences  made  it  sure.  How  delightful  to 
watch  her  in  her  unconsciousness !  yet  Helwyse  felt  a 
delicacy  in  thus  stealing  on  her  without  her  knowledge 
or  consent.  But  the  misgiving  was  not  strong  enough 
to  shut  up  his  telescope ;  perhaps  it  added  a  zest  to  the 
enjoyment. 

"  The  very  princess  you  were  just  now  dreaming  of ! 
the  most  beautiful  and  complete  woman !  Would  I 
were  the  prince  to  win  thee ! " 

This  aspiration  was  whispered,  as  though  its  object 
were  within  conversable  distance.  Balder  could  be 
imaginative  enough  when  the  humor  took  him. 

Hardly  had  the  whisper  passed  his  lips  when  he  saw 


THROUGH   A   GLASS.  145 

the  princess  majestically  turn  her  lovely  head,  slowly 
and  needfully,  until  her  glance  seemed  directly  to  meet 
his  own.  His  cheeks  burned;  it  was  as  if  she  had 
actually  overheard  him.  Was  she  gracious  or  offended  ? 
He  saw  her  stretch  towards  him  her  arms,  and  then, 
with  a  gesture  of  beautiful  power,  clasp  her  hands  and 
draw  them  in  to  her  bosom. 

Prince  Balder's  hand  trembled,  the  telescope  slipped ; 
the  quick  effort  to  regain  it  lent  it  an  impetus  that 
shot  it  far  into  the  water.  It  had  done  its  work  and 
was  gone  forever.  The  beautiful  princess  was  once 
more  a  vague  speck  across  a  mile  of  rapid  river;  now, 
even  the  speck  had  moved  beyond  the  trees  and  was 
out  of  sight ! 

The  episode  had  come  so  unexpectedly,  and  so  quickly 
passed,  that  now  it  seemed  never  to  have  been  at  all ! 
But  Helwyse  had  yielded  himself  unreservedly  to  the 
influence  of  the  moment.  Following  so  aptly  the  fan 
ciful  creation  of  his  thought,  the  apparition  had  ac 
quired  peculiar  significance.  The  abrupt  disappearance 
afflicted  him  like  a  positive  loss. 

Did  he,  then,  soberly  believe  himself  and  the  prin 
cess  to  have  exchanged  glances  (not  to  speak  of 
thoughts)  across  a  river  a  mile  wide  ?  Perhaps  he 
merely  courted  a  fancy  from  which  the  test  of  reason 
was  deliberately  withheld.  Spirits  not  being  amenable 
to  material  laws,  what  was  the  odds  (so  far  as  ex- 


146  IDOLATRY. 

change  of  spiritual  sentiment  was  concerned)  whether 
the  prince  and  princess  were  separated  by  miles  or 
inches  ? 

But  however  plausible  the  fancy,  it  was  over.  Hel- 
wyse  leaned  back  on  the  rock,  drew  his  hat  over  his 
eyes,  folded  his  hands  beneath  his  head,  and  appeared 
to  sleep. 


XIV. 

THE  TOWEE  OF  BABEL. 

IN"  a  perfect  state  of  society,  where  people  will 
think  and  act  in  harmony  with  only  the  purest 
aesthetic  laws,  a  knowledge  of  stenography  and  pho 
tography  will  suffice  for  the  creation  of  perfect  works 
of  art.  But  until  that  epoch  comes,  the  artist  must 
be  content  to  do  the  grouping,  toning,  and  propor 
tioning  of  his  picture  for  himself,  under  penalty  of 
redundancy  and  confusion.  People  nowadays  seldom 
do  or  think  the  right  thing  at  the  fitting  moment; 
insomuch  that  the  biographer,  if  he  would  be  intel 
ligible,  must  use  his  own  discretion  in  arranging  his 
materials. 

ISTow,  in  view  of  the  rough  shaking  which  late 
events  had  given  Balder  and  his  opinions,  it  is  doing 
no  violence  to  probability  to  fancy  him  taking  an 
early  opportunity  to  pass  these  opinions  in  review. 
It  would  be  easy,  by  a  glance  at  the  magic  ring,  to 
reproduce  his  meditations  just  as  they  passed  through 
his  brain.  Brevity  and  pertinence,  however,  counsel 
us  to  recall  a  dialogue  which  had  taken  place  about 
three  years  before. 


148  IDOLATRY. 

Balder  and  his  father  were  then  in  the  North  of 
England ;  and  the  latter  (who  never  concerned  himself 
with  any  save  the  plainest  and  most  practical  philos 
ophy)  was  not  a  little  startled  at  an  analogy  drawn  by 
his  son  between  the  cloud-cap  on  Helvellyn's  head 
and  the  Almighty  !  Premising  that  the  cloud-cap, 
though  apparently  stable,  was  really  created  by  the 
continuous  passage  of  warmer  air  through  a  cold  region 
around  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  whereby  it  was 
for  a  moment  condensed  into  visibility  and  then  swept 
on,  —  having  postulated  this  fact,  and  disregarding 
the  elder's  remark  that  he  believed  not  a  word  of  it, 
—  Balder  went  on  to  say  that  God  was  only  a  set 
of  attributes,  — in  a  word,  the  perfection  of  all  human 
attributes,  —  and  not  at  all  an  individual ! 

"  And  what  has  that  to  do  with  your  cloud-making 
theory  ? "  demanded  Thor,  with  scorn. 

"  The  perfect  human  attributes,"  replied  Balder,  un 
ruffled,  "correspond  to  the  region  of  condensation,— 
the  cold  place,  you  understand." 

"Do  they?     Well?" 

"The  constant  condensation  of  the  warm  current 
from  below  corresponds  to  the  taking  on  of  these 
attributes  by  a  ceaseless  succession  of  human  souls, 
billing  out  the  Divine  character,  they  lose  identity, 
and  so  make  room  for  others." 

"  What  are  these  attributes  ?  " 


THE   TOWER   OF   BABEL.  149 

"  They  are  ineffable,  —  they  are  omniscience,  —  the 
comprehension  of  the  whole  creative  idea." 

"  You  expect  me  to  believe  that,  —  eh  ?  "  growled 
Thor. 

"If  I  could  believe  you  understood  it,  dear  old 
sceptic  ! "  returned  Balder,  with  affectionate  irreverence, 
throwing  his  arm  across  his  father's  broad  shoulders. 
"  I  say  that  every  soul  of  right  capacity,  living  for 
culture,  and  not  afraid  of  itself,  will  at  last  reach  that 
highest  point.  It  is  the  sublime  goal  of  man,  and  no 
human  life  is  complete  unless  in  gaining  it.  Many 
fail,  but  not  all.  I  will  not !  No,  I  am  not  blas 
phemous  ;  I  think  life  without  definite  aim  not  worth 
having ;  and  that  aim,  the  highest  conceivable." 

Thor,  having  stared  in  silence  at  his  descendant, 
came  out  with  a  stentorian  Viking  laugh,  which  Balder 
sustained  with  perfect  good-humor. 

"  Ho,  ho  !  —  the  devil  is  in  you,  son  !  —  in  those 
black  eyes  of  yours,  —  ho,  ho  !  No  other  Helwyse 
ever  had  such  eyes,  —  or  such  ideas  either  !  Well, 
but  supposing  you  passed  the  condensation  point, 
what  then?" 

Balder,  who  was  entirely  in  earnest  about  the  mat 
ter,  answered  gravely, — 

"  I  cease  to  be ;  but  what  was  I  becomes  the  pure, 
life-giving,  spiritual  substance,  and  enters  into  fresh 
personalities,  and  so  passes  up  again  in  endless  cir 
culation." 


150  IDOLATRY. 

"  Hum !  and  how  with  the  evil  ones,  boy  ? " 

"  As  with  all  waste  matter ;  they  are  cast  aside,  and1, 
as  distinct  souls,  are  gradually  annihilated.  But  they 
may  still  manure  the  soil,  and  involuntarily  help  the 
growth  of  others.  Sooner  or  later,  in  one  or  another 
form,  all  come  into  use." 

"  For  all  I  see,  then,"  quoth  Thor,  "  your  devils  come 
to  the  same  end  as  your  gods ! " 

"  There  is  the  same  kind  of  difference,"  returned  the 
philosopher,  "  as  between  light  and  earth,  —  both  of 
which  help  the  growth  of  flowers ;  but  light  gives 
color  and  beauty,  earth  only  the  insipid  matter.  I 
would  rather  be  the  light." 

"  Another  thing,"  proceeded  Thor,  ignoring  this  dis 
tinction  ;  "  admitting  all  else,  how  do  you  account  for 
your  region  of  condensation  ? " 

"By  the  necessity  of  perfection,"  answered  Balder, 
after  some  consideration.  "  There  would  be  no  mean 
ing  in  existence  unless  it  tended  towards  perfection. 
But  you  have  hit  on  the  unanswerable  question." 

Thor  shook  his  head  and  huge  grizzled  beard. 
"  German  University  humbug  ! "  growled  he.  "  Get 
you  into  a  scrape  some  day.  The  cloud  's  not  made 
in  that  way,  I  tell  you !  Come,  let 's  go  back  to  the 
inn." 

"  Take  my  arm,"  said  Balder ;  and  as  together  they 
descended  the  spur  of  the  mountain,  he  added  lovingly, 


THE   TOWER   OF   BABEL.  151 

"  I  '11  bring  no  clouds  across  your  sky,  my  dear  old 
man ! "  So  the  hospitable  inn  received  them. 

The  discussion  between  the  two  was  never  renewed ; 
but  Balder  held  to  his  creed.  He  elaborated  and  forti 
fied  what  had  been  mere  outline  before.  No  dogma 
can  be  conceived  which  many  circumstances  will  not 
seem  to  confirm  and  justify.  But  we  cannot  attempt 
to  keep  abreast  of  Balder's  deductions.  There  are  as 
many  theological  systems  as  individual  souls ;  and  no 
system  can  be  wholly  apprehended  by  any  one  save  its 
author. 

Mastery  of  men  and  things,  —  supreme  knowledge 
to  the  end  of  supreme  power,  —  such  seems  to  have 
been  his  ambition,  —  an  ambition  too  abstract  and 
lofty  for  much  rivalry.  Nature  and  human  nature 
were  at  once  his  laboratory  and  his  instruments.  His 
senses  were  to  him  outlets  of  divftiity.  The  good  and 
evil  of  such  a  scheme  scarce  need  pointing  out.  It 
was  the  apotheosis  of  self-respect;  but  self-respect 
raised  to  such  a  height  becomes  self-worship ;  hu 
man  vision  dazzles  at  the  sublimity  of  the  prospect ; 
at  the  moment  of  greatest  weakness  the  soul  arrogates 
invincible  power,  and  falls  !  For,  the  mightier  man  is, 
the  more  absolutely  does  he  need  the  support  of  a 
mightier  Man  than  he  can  ever  be. 

No  doubt  Balder  had  often  been  assailed  by  doubts 
and  weariness  ;  the  path  had  seemed  too  long  and 


152  IDOLATRY. 

arduous,  and  he  had  secretly  pined  for  some  swift 
issue  from  perplexity  and  delay.  In  such  a  moment 
was  it  that  the  voice  of  darkness  gained  his  ear,  and, 
like  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  lured  him  to  calamity.  Verily, 
it  is  not  easy  to  be  God.  Only  builders  of  the  Tower 
of  Babel  know  the  awfulness  of  its  overthrow. 

Balder's  spirit  lay  prostrate  among  the  ruins,  too 
stunned  and  bewildered  to  see  the  reason  or  justice  of 
his  fall.  Such  a  state  is  dangerous,  for,  the  better 
part  of  the  mind  being  either  occupied  with  its  dis 
aster  or  stupefied  by  it,  the  superficial  part  is  readily 
moved  to  folly  or  extravagance,  —  to  deeds  and 
thoughts  which  a  saner  moment  would  scout  and 
ridicule.  Well  is  it,  then,  if  the  blind  steps  are 
guided  to  better  foothold  than  they  know  how  to 
choose.  Angels  are  said  to  be  particularly  watchful 
over  those  who  sleep ;  perhaps,  also,  during  the  dark 
ness  which  follows  on  moral  perversion. 


XY. 

CHARON'S   FERRY. 

AFTER  lying  motionless  for  half  an  hour,  Balder 
suddenly  sat  upright  and  settled  his  hat  on  his 
head.  A  new  purpose  had  come  to  him  which,  arriv 
ing  later  than  it  might  have  done,  made  him  wish  to 
act  upon  it  without  delay. 

The  old  mariner  had  by  this  time  bailed  out  his 
boat,  and,  having  shipped  a  mast  in  the  forward  thwart, 
was  dropping  down  stream.  As  he  neared  the  promon 
tory  Balder  hailed  him  :  — 

"  Hullo  !  skipper,  take  me  across  ? " 

The  skipper,  without  replying,  steered  shorewards, 
the  other  clambering  down  the  rock  to  meet  him. 
After  a  brief  parley,  during  which  the  old  fellow 
closely  scrutinized  his  intending  passenger  from  head 
to  foot,  a  bargain  was  struck,  and  they  put  forth, 
tacking  diagonally  across  stream.  For  Balder,  having 
charged  his  imagination  with  castles,  warlike  chief 
tains,  and  beautiful  princesses,  had  finally  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  the  stone  house  was  an  enchanter's 
castle;  the  figure  he  had  seen,  an  imprisoned  lady; 

7* 


154  IDOLATRY. 

himself,  a  knight-errant  bound  to  rescue  her  and  give 
the  wicked  enchanter  his  deserts.  This  idea  possessed 
his  brain  for  the  moment  more  vividly  than  do  realities 
most  men.  The  plumed  helmet  was  on  his  head,  he 
glittered  with  shining  arms  and  sword,  his  heart 
warmed  and  throbbed  with  visions  of  conflict  and  bold 
emprise.  The  commonplace  assumed  an  aspect  of 
grandeur  and  magnificence  in  harmony  with  his  chiv- 
alric  mania.  The  leaky  craft  in  which  he  sat  became 
a  majestic  barge ;  the  skipper,  some  wrinkled  Charon 
who  doubtless  had  ferried  many  a  brave  knight  to  his 
death  beneath  yonder  castle's  walls.  That  seeming 
birch-stump  on  the  farther  shore  was  the  castle  cham 
pion,  armed  cap-a-pie  in  silver  harness  and  ready  with 
drawn  sword  to  do  battle  against  all  comers.  Trim  the 
sail,  ferryman,  and  steer  thy  skilfullest ! 

The  kind  of  insanity  which  sees  in  outward  mani 
festation  the  fantasies  of  the  mind  is  an  affection  in 
cident  at  times  to  every  one.  An  artist  sees  beauties  in 
a  landscape,  an  artisan  in  pulleys  and  levers,  and  either 
may  be  so  far  insane  in  the  eyes  of  the  other.  Nature 
discovers  grandeur,  beauty,  or  truth  according  as  the 
quality  abides  in  the  seer.  In  this  view  Balder  or  Don 
Quixote  was  no  more  insane  than  other  people.  Their 
eyes  bore  true  witness  to  what  was  in  their  minds,  and 
the  sanest  eyes  can  do  no  more.  Their  minds  were, 
haps,  out  of  focus ;  but  who  can  cast  the  first  stone  ? 


CHARON'S   FERRY.  155 

The  skipper,  when  not  masquerading  as  Charon,  was 
a  lean,  brown,  and  wrinkled  old  salt,  neither  complete 
nor  clean  of  garb,  and  bulging  as  to  one  lank  cheek 
with  a  quid  of  tobacco.  At  first  he  sat  silent,  dividing 
his  attention  between  the  conduct  of  his  boat  and  his 
passenger. 

"Whereabouts  will  yer  land,  Captain?"  he  asked 
when  they  were  fairly  under  way. 

"Wherever  there  is  a  path  upwards.  Who  is  the 
owner  of  the  castle  ? " 

"  The  castle  ?  Well,  there  ain't  many  rightly  knows 
just  what  his  name  is,"  answered  Charon,  cocking  his 
gray  eye  rather  quizzically.  "  Some  says  one  thing, 
some  another.  I  have  heard  tell  he  was  Davy  Jones 
himself ! " 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  him  ? " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  ;  I  've  seen  something  that 
might  have  been  him  ;  but  there  's  no  telling !  he  can 
fix  himself  up  to  look  like  pretty  much  anything,  they 
say.  There  ain't  many  calls  up  to  the  castle,  any 
way." 

«  Why  not  ? " 

"Well,  there  's  a  big  wall  all  around  the  place,  for 
one  thing,  and  never  a  gate  in  it ;  so  without  yer  dives 
under  ground  and  up  again,  there  don't  seem  no  easy 
way  of  getting  in." 

"  Does  the  owner  never  come  out,  then  ? " 


156  IDOLATRY. 

"Well,  lie  can  get  out,  I  expect,  when  he  wants  to," 
replied  the  wrinkled  humorist,  with  a  weather-beaten 
grin.  "They  do  say  he  whips  off  on  a  broomstick 
about  once  a  month  and  steers  for  Bos-ton  ! "  His 
fashion  of  utterance  was  a  leisurely  sing-song,  like  the 
roll  of  a  vessel  anchored  in  a  ground-swell. 

"  Why  does  he  go  there  ?  "  demanded  Prince  Balder, 
with  the  air  of  finding  nothing  extravagant  or  improba 
ble  in  the  sailor's  yarn.  The  latter  (a  little  doubting 
whether  his  interlocutor  were  a  simpleton  or  a  "  deep 
one  ")  answered,  after  a  moment's  pause,  —  to  replenish 
his  imagination  perhaps,  — 

"Well,  in  course,  I  knows  nothing  what  he  does; 
but  they  do  say  he  coasts  around  to  all  the  ho-tels  and 
overhauls  the  log.     He  's  been  laying  for  some  one  this 
twenty  year.    My  idea,  it 's  about  time  he  hailed  him  ! " 
"  What  does  he  want  with  him  ?  " 
"Well,  yer  see,  what  folks  say  is,  this  chap  had 
played  some  game  or  other  off  on  Davy ;  so  Davy  he 
puts  a  rod  in  pickle  and  vows  he  'd  be  even  witli  the 
chap,  yet. 

"  Yer  see,  —  I  11  tell  yer,"  continued  Charon,  lean 
ing  forward  on  his  knee  and  speaking  confidentially ; 
"just  as  this  chap  was  putting  off,  — with  some  of 
Davy's  belongings,  likely,  —  Davy  up  and  cuts  a  slice 
of  flesh  and  blood  off  him.  Well,  he  takes  this  slice 
and  fixes  it  up  one  way  or  another,  and  makes  a  witch 


CHARON'S  FERRY.  157 

out  of  it,  —  handsome  as  she  can  be,  —  enough  to  draw 
a  chap's  heart  right  out  through  his  jacket.  Now, 
being  as  she  's  his  own  flesh  and  blood,  d'  yer  see,  this 
chap  I  'm  telling  yer  on  's  bound  to  come  back  after 
her  afore  he  dies.  Well,  soon  as  Davy  gets  hold  on 
him,  he  ups  with  him  to  the  place  yonder  and  outs 
with  the  witch.  '  Here  yer  are,  my  dear  friend  ! '  says 
he  (as  civil  as  may  be),  '  here  's  yer  own  flesh  and 
blood  a- waiting  for  yer ! '  Well,  the  chap  grabs  for  her, 
and  once  he  touches  her  there  ain't  no  letting  go  no 
more.  Off  she  starts  on  her  broomstick,  he  along  be 
hind,  till  they  gets  over  Hell  gate  —  Charon  checked 
himself,  made  an  ominous  downward  gesture  with  his 
right  forefinger,  and  emphasized  it  by  spitting  solemnly 
to  leeward. 

"  Did  you  ever  meet  him,  —  this  man  ?  "  asked 
Helwyse,  rousing  himself  from  a  brown  study  and 
looking  Charon  in  the  eyes. 

"  Well,  now,  I  could  n't  tell  for  certain  as  I  ever  met 
him,"  replied  the  other,  returning  the  look  with  an  odd 
wrinkling  of  the  features.  "  But  it 's  nigh  on  twenty 
year  that  I  fetched  a  man  across  this  very  spot,  and 
back  again  in  the  evening,  that  might  have  been  him. 
Leastways,  he  was  the  last  caller  ever  I  took  over  to 
that  house." 

"  I  am  the  first  since  he  —  eh  ? " 

"  Well,  yer  are  ;  and,  Captain,  —  no  offence  to  you, — 


158  IDOLATRY. 

but  allowing  for  a  lot  of  hair  he  had,  he  was  like  enough 
to  you  to  be  yer  twin  brother  !  " 

"  Or  even  myself !  So  Davy  Jones  goes  by  the  name 
of  Doctor  Glyphic  in  these  parts,  does  he  ?  "  said  Balder, 
with  a  sudden,  incisive  smile,  which  almost  cut  through 
the  old  ferryman's  self-possession.  The  boat  at  the 
same  moment  glided  into  a  little  cove,  and  the  passenger 
jumped  ashore.  Charon  stood  deferentially  touching 
his  weather-stained  hat,  too  much  mystified  to  speak. 
But  the  fare  which  Helwyse  handed  him.  restored  his 
voice. 

"  Thank  yer,  Captain,  —  thank  yer  kindly  !  —  hope  no 
offence,  Captain,  —  a  chap  picks  up  a  deal  of  gossip  in 
twenty  year,  and  —  " 

"  No  offence  in  the  world  ! "  cried  Helwyse  ;  "  I  take 
you  for  a  powerful  enchanter,  who  seems  to  steer  one 
way,  when  he  is  in  fact  taking  his  passenger  in  another. 
Where  are  you  bound  ?  " 

"Well,  I  was  dropping  down  a  bit  to  see  if  the 
schooner  ain't  around  yet.  She'd  ought  to  be  in  by 
now,  if  nothing  ain't  runned  into  her  in  the  fog." 

Helwyse  paused  a  moment,  eying  Charon  sharply. 
"The  schooner  'Besurrection,'"  he  began,  and,  seeing  he 
had  hit  the  mark,  continued,  "  was  run  into  last  night 
on  Long  Island  Sound,  and  had  her  bowsprit  carried 
away.  But  no  serious  damage  was  done,  and  she  '11  be 
in  by  night,  if  the  wind  holds." 


CHARON'S   FERRY.  159 

With  this  he  bade  the  awe-stricken  old  yarn-spinner 
farewell,  and,  with  secret  laughter  at  his  bewilderment, 
turned  to  the  narrow  zigzag  path  that  climbed  the  bank, 
passing  the  birch-stump  champion  without  a  glance  of 
recognition.  A  few  vigorous  minutes  brought  him  to 
the  summit,  whence,  facing  round,  he  saw  the  broad 
river  crawl  beneath  him ;  the  little  boat,  with  Charon 
in  the  stern,  drift  downwards ;  and  beyond,  the  whole 
rough  length  of  Manhattan  Island. 

A  few  days  before  Tlior  Helwyse's  departure  for 
Europe  (some  four  years  after  his  wife's  death)  he  had 
left  a  certain  little  boy  and  girl  in  charge  of  the  nurse, 

—  a  woman  in  whose  faithfulness  he  placed  the  utmost 
confidence,  —  and  had  crossed  from  Brooklyn  to  New 
Jersey,  to  say  good  by  to  Brother  Hiero.     Returning 
at  night  he  found  one  of  the  children  —  his  son  Balder 

—  locked  up  in  the  nursery  ;  the  nurse  and  the  little 
girl  had  disappeared,  nor  did  Thor  again  set  eyes  on 
either  of  them. 

Balder,  as  he  grew  up,  often  questioned  his  father 
concerning  various  events  which  had  happened  beyond 
the  reach  of  his  childish  memory ;  and  among  other 
stories,  no  doubt  this  of  the  farewell  visit  to  Uncle 
Glyphic  had  been  often  told  with  all  the  details.  By 
no  miracle,  therefore,  but  simply  by  an  acute  mental 
process,  associating  together  time,  place,  and  description, 
was  Balder  enabled  so  to  dumfounder  old  Charon. 


160  IDOLATRY. 

Embarking  on  a  phantom  quest,  his  brain  full  of 
whimsical  visions,  Balder  had  thus  unexpectedly 
stepped  into  the  path  of  his  legitimate  affair.  The 
accident  (for  no  better  reason  than  that  it  was  such) 
inspired  him  with  a  superficial  cheerfulness.  He  had 
landed  some  distance  below  his  uncle  Glyphic's  house, 
—  for  such  indeed  it  was,  —  and  he  now  took  his  way 
towards  it  through  trees  and  underbrush.  It  was  so 
situated,  and  so  thickly  surrounded  with  foliage,  as  to 
be  visible  from  no  point  in  the  vicinity.  Had  the  site 
been  chosen  with  a  view  to  concealment,  the  builder 
could  not  have  succeeded  better,  Remembering  the 
eccentricity  of  his  uncle's  character,  as  portrayed  in 
many  an  anecdote,  Balder  would  not  have  been  sur 
prised  to  find  him  living  under  ground,  or  in  a  pyramid. 

On  arriving  at  the  wall  whereof  the  ferryman  had 
told  him,  he  found  it  a  truly  formidable  affair,  some 
twelve  feet  high  and  built  of  brick.  To  scale  it  without 
a  ladder  was  impossible ;  but  Balder,  never  doubting 
that  there  was  a  gate  somewhere,  set  out  in  search 
of  it. 

It  was  tiresome  walking  over  the  uneven  ground 
and  through  obstructing  bushes,  branches,  and  stumps. 
The  tall  brick  barrier  seemed  as  interminable  as  un 
broken.  How  many  houses,  thought  Balder,  might 
have  been  built  from  the  material  thus  wasted  !  If 
ever  he  came  into  possession  of  the  place,  he  resolved 


CHARON'S   FERRY.  161 

to  present  the  brick  to  his  friend  Charon,  that  he 
might  replace  his  wooden  shanty  with  something  more 
durable  and  convenient,  and  perhaps  build  a  dock  for 
the  schooner  "  Eesurrection  "  to  lie  in.  It  must  have 
taken  a  fortune  to  put  up  such  a  wall ;  were  the  en 
closure  proportionally  valuable,  it  was  worth  while 
crossing  the  ocean  to  see  it.  Still  more  wall !  fully  a 
mile  of  it  already,  and  yet  further  it  rambled  on 
through  leafy  thickets.  But  no  signs  of  a  gate  ! 

"  I  believe  the  Devil  really  does  live  here  ! "  ex 
claimed  Balder,  in  impatient  heat ;  "  and  the  only  way 
in  or  out  is  on  a  broomstick,  —  or  by  diving  under 
ground,  as  Charon  said  ! " 

Stumbling  onwards  awhile  farther,  he  suddenly  came 
again  upon  the  river-bank,  having  skirted  the  whole 
length  of  the  wall.  There  was  actually  no  getting  in ! 

The  castle  was  impregnable. 

* 
Helwyse  sat  down  at  the  foot  of  a  birch- tree  which 

grew  a  few  yards  from  the  wall. 

"  How  does  my  uncle  manage  about  his  butcher  and 
baker,  I  wonder  !  He  might  at  least  have  provided  a 
derrick  for  victualling  his  stronghold.  Perhaps  he 
hauls  up  provisions  by  ropes  over  the  face  of  the  cliff. 
No  doubt,  Charon  knew  about  it.  Shall  I  go  down 
and  look  ?  "  ^ 

It  was  provoking  —  having  come  so  far  to  call  on  a 
relative  —  to  be  put  off  with  a  mile  or  two  of  brick 


162  IDOLATRY. 

wall.  The  gate  must  have  been  walled  up  since  his 
father's  time,  for  Thor  had  never  mentioned  any  defi 
ciency  in  that  respect.  But  Balder's  determination 
was  piqued,  —  not  to  mention  his  curiosity.  .Had  the 
path  from  Mr.  MacGentle's  office  to  Doctor  Glyphic's 
door  been  straight  and  unobstructed,  the  young  man 
might  have  wandered  aside  and  never  reached  the  end. 
As  it  was,  he  was  goaded  into  the  resolution  to  see  his 
uncle  at  all  hazards.  An  additional  spur  was  the 
thought  of  the  gracious  apparition  which  he  had  seen 
—  or  dreamt  he  saw  —  from  the  farther  bank.  Was 
she  indeed  but  an  apparition  ?  —  or  the  single  reality 
amidst  the  throng  of  fantasies  evoked  by  his  over 
wrought  mind  ?  —  beaconing  him  through  misty  errors 
to  a  fate  better  than  he  knew  !  In  all  seriousness,  who 
could  she  be  ?  Had  Doctor  Glyphic  crowned  his  eccen 
tricities  by  marrying,  and  begetting  a  daughter  ? 

These  speculations  were  interrupted  by  the  clear, 
joyous  note  of  a  bird,  just  above  Balder's  head.  It 
was  such  a  note  as  might  have  been  uttered  by  a  para 
disical  cuckoo  with  the  breath  of  a  brighter  world 
in  his  throat.  Looking  up,  he  saw  a  beautiful  little 
fowl  perched  on  the  topmost  twig  of  the  birch-tree.  It 
had  a  slender  bill,  and  on  its  head  a  crest  of  splendid 
feathers,  which  it  set  up  at  Balder  in  a  most  coquettish 
manner.  The  next  moment  it  flew  over  the  wall,  and 
from  the  farther  side  warbled  an  invitation  to  follow. 


CHARON'S   FERRY.  163 

Although  he  could  not  fly,  Balder  reflected  that  he 
could  climb,  and  that  the  top  of  the  tree  would  show 
him  more  than  he  could  see  now.  The  birch  looked 
tolerably  climbable  and  was  amply  high  ;  as  to  tough 
ness,  he  thought  not  about  it.  Beneath  what  frivolous 
disguises  does  destiny  mask  her  approach !  Discretion 
is  a  virtue  ;  yet,  had  Balder  been  discreet  enough  to 
examine  the  tree  before  getting  into  it,  the  ultimate 
consequences  are  incalculable ! 

As  it  was  (and  marvelling  why  he  had  not  thought  of 
doing  it  before)  he  set  stoutly  to  work,  and,  despite  his 
jack-boots,  was  soon  among  the  upper  branches.  The 
birch  trembled  and  groaned  unheeded.  The  bird  (an 
Egyptian  bird,  —  a  hoopoe,  —  descendant  of  a  pair 
brought  by  Doctor  Glyphic  from  the  Nile  a  quarter  of  a 
century  ago),  —  the  hoopoe  was  fluttering  and  warbling 
and  setting  its  brilliant  cap  at  the  young  man  more  cap- 
tivatingly  than  ever.  A  glance  over  the  enclosure  showed 
a  beautifully  fertile  •  arid  luxurious  expanse,  damasked 
with  soft  green  grass  and  studded  with  flowers  and 
trees.  A  few  hundred  yards  away  billowed  the  white 
tops  of  an  apple-orchard  in  full  bloom.  Southward, 
half  seen  through  boughs  and  leaves,  rose  an  anom 
alous  structure  of  brick,  glass,  and  stone,  which  could 
only  be  the  famous  house  on  whose  design  and  decora 
tion  old  Hiero  Glyphic  had  spent  years  and  fortunes. 

The  tract  was  like  an  oasis  in  a  forbidding  land. 


164  IDOLATRY. 

The  soil  had  none  of  the  sandy  and  clayey  consistency 
peculiar  to  New  Jersey,  but  was  deep  and  rich  as  an 
English  valley.  The  sunshine  rested  more  warmly  and 
mellowly  here  than  elsewhere.  The  southern  breeze 
acquired  a  tropical  flavor  in  loitering  across  it.  The 
hoopoe  had  seemed  out  of  place  on  the  hither  side  the 
wall,  but  now  looked  as  much  at  home  as  though  the 
Hudson  had  been  the  Nile  indeed. 

"My  uncle,"  said  Balder  to  himself,  as  he  swayed 
among  the  branches  of  his  birch-tree,  "  has  really  suc 
ceeded  very  well  in  transporting  a  piece  of  Egypt  to 
America.  Were  I  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  no 
doubt  I  might  appreciate  it  also  ! " 

The  hoopoe  responded  encouragingly,  the  tree 
cracked,  and  Balder  felt  with  dismay  that  it  was 
tottering  beneath  him.  There  was  no  time  to  climb 
down  again.  With  a  dismal  croak,  the  faithless  birch 
leaned  slowly  through  the  air.  There  was  nothing  to 
be  done  but  to  go  with  it;  and  Balder,  even  as  he 
descended,  was  able  to  imagine  how  absurd  he  must 
appear.  The  tree  fell,  but  was  intercepted  at  half  its 
height  by  the  top  of  the  wall.  The  upper  half  of  the 
stem,  with  its  human  fruit  still  attached  to  it,  bent 
bow-like  towards  the  earth,  the  trunk  not  being  quite 
separated  from  the  root. 

Helwyse  had  thus  far  managed  to  keep  his  presence 
of  mind,  and  now,  glancing  downwards,  he  saw  the 


CHAKON'S   FERRY.  165 

ground  not  eight  feet  below.  He  loosed  his  hold,  and 
the  next  instant  stood  in  the  soft  grass.  The  birch 
had  been  his  broomstick.  Meanwhile  the  hoopoe,  with 
a  triumphant  note,  flew  off  towards  the  house  to  tell 
the  news. 


XVI. 

LEGEND  AND   CHRONICLE. 

HIERO  GLYPHIC'S  house  came  not  into  the 
world  complete  at  a  birth,  but  was  the  result 
of  an  irregular  growth,  progressing  through  many 
years.  Originally  a  single-gabled  edifice,  its  only  pecu 
liarity  had  been  that  it  was  brick  instead  of  wooden. 
Here,  red  and  unornamented  as  the  house  itself,  the 
future  Egyptologist  was  born.  The  parallel  between 
him  and  his  dwelling  was  maintained  more  or  less 
closely  to  the  end. 

He  was  the  first  pledge  of  affection  between  his 
mother  and  father,  and  the  last  also ;  for  shortly  after 
his  advent  the  latter  parent,  a  retired  undertaker  by 
profession,  failed  from  this  world.  The  widow  was 
much  younger  than  her  husband,  and  handsome  to 
boot.  Nevertheless,  several  years  passed  before  she 
married  again.  Her  second  lord  was  likewise  elderly, 
but  differed  from  the  first  in  being  enormously  wealthy. 
The  issue  of  this  union  was  a  daughter,  the  Helen  of 
our  story,  a  pretty,  dark-eyed  little  thing,  petted  and 
indulged  by  all  the  family,  and  reigning  undisputed 
over  all. 


LEGEND   AND    CHRONICLE.  167 

Meanwhile  the  old  brick  house  had  been  deserted,  Mrs. 
Glyphic  having  accompanied  her  second  husband  to  his 
sumptuous  residence  in  Brooklyn.  But  in  process  of 
time  Hiero  (or,  as  he  was  then  called,  Henry)  took  it  into 
his  head  to  return  to  the  original  family  mansion  and  • 
live  there.  No  objection  was  made  ;  in  truth,  Henry's 
oddities,  awkwardnesses,  and  propensity  to  dabble  in 
queer  branches  of  research  and  experiment  may  have 
allayed  the  parting  pangs.  Back  he  blundered,  there 
fore,  to  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  and  established  him 
self  in  his  birthplace.  What  he  did  there  during  the 
next  few  years  will  never  be  known.  Grisly  stories 
about  the  man  in  the  brick  house  were  current  among 
the  country  people.  A  devil  was  said  to  be  his 
familiar  friend  ;  nay,  it  was  whispered  that  he  himself 
was  the  arch-fiend!  But  nothing  positively  super 
natural,  or  even  unholy,  was  ever  proved  to  have  taken 
place.  The  recluse  had  the  command  of  as  much 
money  as  he  could  spend,  and  no  doubt  he  wrought 
with  it  miracles  beyond  the  vulgar  comprehension. 
His  mind  had  no  more  real  depth  than  a  looking-glass 
with  a  crack  in  it,  and  its  images  were  disjointed  and 
confused.  There  are  many  such  men,  but  few  possess 
unlimited  means  of  carrying  their  crack-brained  fancies 
into  fact. 

During  this- — which  may  be  called  the  second  — 
period  of  Glyphic's  career,  he  made  several  anomalous 


168  IDOL  ATE  Y. 

additions  to  the  brick  house,  all  after  designs  of  his 
own.  He  moreover  furnished  it  anew  throughout,  in  a 
manner  that  made  the  upholsterers  stare.  Each  room 
-  so  reads  the  legend  —  was  fitted  up  in  the  style  of  a 
different  country,  according  to  Glyphic's  notion  of  it ! 
He  was  said  to  live  in  one  apartment  or  another  ac 
cording  as  it  was  his  whim  to  be  Spaniard,  Turk,  Eus- 
sian,  Hindoo,  or  Chinaman.  He  also  applied  himself 
to  gardening,  and  enclosed  seven  hundred  acres  of 
ground  adjoining  the  house  with  a  picket-fence,  fore 
runner  of  the  famous  brick  wall.  The  whole  tract  was 
dug  out  and  manured  to  the  depth  of  many  feet,  till 
it  was  by  far  the  most  fertile  spot  in  the  State.  The 
larger  trees  were  not  disturbed,  but  the  lesser  were 
forced  to  give  place  to  new  and  rare  importations  frorh 
foreign  countries.  Gorgeous  were  the  hosts  of  flowers, 
like  banks  of  sunset  clouds;  the  lawns  showed  the 
finest  turf  out  of  England ;  there  was  a  kitchen-garden 
rich  and  big  enough  to  feed  an  army  of  epicures  all 
their  lives.  In  short,  the  place  was  a  concentrated 
extract  of  the  world  at  large,  where  one  might  at  the 
same  moment  be  a  recluse  and  a  cosmopolitan.  Here 
might  one  live  independent  of  the  world,  yet  sipping 
the  cream  thereof;  and  might  persuade  himself  that  all 
beyond  these  seven  hundred  enchanted  acres  was  but  a 
diffused  reflection  of  the  concrete  existence  between 
the  cliff  and  the  fence. 


LEGEND   AND    CHRONICLE.  169 

But  to  this  second  period  succeeded  finally  the  third, 
• —  that  which  witnessed  the  birth  and  growth  of  the 
Egyptian  mania.  Its  natal  moment  has  not  been  pre 
cisely  determined ;  perhaps  it  was  a  gradual  accretion. 
Mr.  Glyphic's  relatives  in  Brooklyn  were  one  day 
electrified  by  the  news  that  the  quondam  Henry  — 
now  Hiero  —  purposed  instant  departure  for  Europe 
and  Egypt.  Before  starting,  however,  he  built  the 
brick  wall  round  his  estate,  shutting  it  out  forever 
from  human  eyes.  Then  he  vanished,  and  for  nine 
years  was  seen  no  more. 

His  return  was  heralded  by  the  arrival  at  the  port 
of  New  York  of  a  mountain  of  freight,  described  in  the 
invoice  as  the  property  of  Doctor  Hiero  Glyphic  of 
New  Jersey.  The  boxes,  as  they  stood  piled  together 
on  the  wharf,  might  have  furnished  timber  sufficient  to 
build  a  town.  They  contained  the  fruits  of  Doctor 
Glyphic's  antiquarian  researches. 

The  Doctor  himself  —  where  he  picked  up  his 
learned  title  is  unknown  —  was  accompanied  by  a 
slender,  swarthy  young  factotum  who  answered  to  the 
name  of  Manetho.  He  was  introduced  to  the  Brook 
lyn  relatives  as  the  pupil,  assistant,  and  adopted  son 
of  Hiero  Glyphic.  The  latter,  physically  broadened, 
browned,  and  thickened  by  his  travels,  was  intellectu 
ally  the  same  good-natured,  fussy,  nighty  original  as 
ever  ;  shallow,  enthusiastic,  incoherent,  energetic. 


170  IDOLATRY. 

He  and  his  adopted  son  shut  themselves  up  behind 
the  brick  wall ;  but  it  soon  transpired  that  extensive 
additions  were  making  to  the  old  house.  Beyond  this 
elementary  fact  conjecture  had  the  field  to  itself. 
Both  architects  and  builders  were  imported  from 
another  State  and  sworn  to  secrecy,  while  the  high  wall 
and  the  hedge  of  trees  baffled  prying  eyes.  Quantities 
of  red  granite  and  many  blocks  of  precious  marbles 
were  understood  to  be  using  in  the  work.  The  opinion 
gained  that  such  an  Oriental  palace  was  building  as 
never  had  been  seen  outside  an  Arabian  fairy-tale. 

By  and  by  the  work  was  done,  the  workmen  disap 
peared.  But  whoever  hoped  that  now  the  mystery 
would  be  revealed,  and  the  Oriental  palace  be  made  the 
scene  of  a  gorgeous  house-warming,  was  disappointed. 
The  dwellers  behind  the  wall  emerged  not  from  their 
seclusion,  nor  were  others  invited  to  relieve  it.  Tn  due 
course  of  time  Doctor  Glyphic's  worthy  step-father  died. 
The  widow  and  her  daughter  continued  to  live  in 
Brooklyn  until  the  former's  death,  which  took  place  a 
few  years  afterwards.  Then  Helen  came  to  her  brother, 
and  the  Brooklyn  house  was  put  under  lock  and  key, 
and  so  remained  till  Helen's  marriage,  when  it  was  set 
in  order  for  the  bridal  pair.  But  Thor's  wife  died  as 
they  were  on  the  point  of  moving  thither,  and  he  sold 
it  four  years  later  and  left  America  forever. 

After  his  departure  less  was  known  than  before  of 


LEGEND   AND   CHRONICLE.  171 

how  things  went  on  behind  the  brick  wall.  The  gate 
way  was  filled  in  with  masonry.  No  one  was  ever  seen 
entering  the  enclosure  or  leaving  it;  though  it  was 
supposed  that,  somehow  or  other,  communication  was 
occasionally  had  with  the  outside  world.  As  knowl 
edge  dwindled,  legend  grew,  and  wild  were  the  tales 
told  of  the  invisible  Doctor  and  his  foster-son.  In  his 
youth,  the  former  had  been  suspected  of  simple  witch 
craft,  but  he  was  not  let  off  so  easily  now.  Manetho 
was  first  dubbed  a  genie  whom  the  Doctor  had  brought 
out  of  Egypt.  Afterwards  it  was  hinted  that  these  two 
worthies  were  in  fact  one  and  the  same  demon,  who 
by  some  infernal  jugglery  was  able  to  appear  twain 
during  the  daytime,  but  resumed  his  proper  shape  at 
night,  and  cut  up  all  manner  of  unholy  capers. 

By  another  version,  Doctor  Glyphic  died  in  Egypt, 
not  before  bargaining  with  the  Prince  of  Darkness  that 
his  body  should  return  home  in  charge  of  a  condemned 
soul  under  the  guise  of  Manetho.  During  the  day, 
affirmed  these  theorists,  the  body  was  inspired  by  the 
soul  with  phantom  life;  but  became  a  mummy  at 
night,  when  the  condemned  soul  suffered  torments  till 
morning.  With  sunrise  the  ghastly  drama  began  anew. 
This  state  of  things  must  continue  until  the  sun  shone 
all  night  long  within  the  brick  wall  enclosure. 

A  third,  more  moderate  account  is  that  to  which  we 
have  already  listened  from  Charon's  lips.  And  he  per- 


172  IDOLATRY. 

haps  built  on  a  broader  basis  of  truth  than  did  the 
other  yarn-spinners.  But  under  whatever  form  the 
legend  appeared,  there  was  always  mingled  with  it  a 
vaguely  mysterious  whisper  relating  to  the  alleged 
presence  in  the  Doctor's  Den  (so  the  enclosure  was 
nicknamed)  of  an  apparition  in  female  form.  "What 
or  whence  she  was  no  one  pretended  soberly  to  con 
jecture.  Even  her  personal  aspect  was  the  subject  of 
vehement  dispute ;  some  maintaining  her  to  be  of  more 
than  human  beauty,  while  others  swore  by  their  -heads 
that  she  was  so  hideous  fire  would  not  burn  her ! 
These  damned  her  for  a  malignant  witch ;  those  upheld 
her  as  a  heavenly  angel,  urged  by  love  divine  to  expi 
ate,  through  voluntary  suffering,  the  nameless  crimes 
of  the  demoniac  Doctor.  But  unless  the  redemption 
were  effected  within  a  certain  time,  she  must  be  swal 
lowed  up  with  him  in  common  destruction.  Were  the 
how  and  wherefore  of  these  alternatives  called  in  ques 
tion,  the  answer  was  a  wise  shake  of  the  head ! 

The  gentle  reader  will  believe  no  one  of  the  fantastic 
legends  here  recorded ;  possibly  they  were  not  believed 
by  their  very  fabricators.  They  are  useful  only  as 
tending  to  show  the  moral  atmosphere  of  the  house 
and  its  occupants.  There  is  sometimes  a  subtile  sym 
bolic  element  inwoven  with  such  tales,  which  —  though 
not  the  truth  —  helps  us  to  apprehend  the  truth  when 
we  come  to  know  it.  Moreover,  the  fanciful  parts  of 


LEGEND  AND   CHRONICLE.  1*73 

history  are  to  the  facts  as  clouds  to  a  landscape ;  a 
picture  is  incomplete  without  them  ;  they  aid  in  bring 
ing  out  the  distances,  and  cast  lights  and  shadows  over 
tracts  else  harsh  and  bare. 

Beyond  what  he  had  gathered  from  the  ancient 
mariner,  Balder  Helwyse  knew  nothing  of  these  fear 
ful  fables.  This  perhaps  accounted  for  the  boldness 
wherewith  he  pursued  his  way  towards  the  mysterious 
house,  following  in  the  airy  wake  of  the  clear-throated 
little  hoopoe. 


XVII. 

FACE  TO   FACE. 

THE  ground-plan  of  the  house  was  like  a  capital 
H  placed  endwise  towards  the  river.  The  north 
ern  side  consisted  of  the  original  brick  building  and 
the  additions  of  the  second  period ;  the  southern  was 
that  stone  edifice  which  so  few  persons  had  been  lucky 
enough  to  see.  The  centre  or  cross-piece  comprised 
the  grand  entrance-hall  and  staircase,  heavily  panelled 
with  dark  oak,  and  the  floor  flagged  with  squares  of 
black  and  white  marbles. 

This  entrance-hall  opened  eastward  into  a  generous 
conservatory,  filling  the  whole  square  court  between 
tjie  wings  at  that  end.  The  corresponding  western 
court  was  devoted  to  the  roomy  portico.  Two  or 
three  broad  steps  mounted  to  a  balcony  twenty  feet 
deep  and  nearly  twice  as  wide,  protected  by  a  lofty 
roof  supported  on  slender  Moorish  columns.  Cross 
ing  this,  one  came  to  the  hall-door,  likewise  Moorish 
in  arch  and  ornamentation.  Considered  room  by  room 
and  part  by  part,  the  house  was  good  and  often  beau 
tiful  ;  taken  as  a  whole,  it  was  the  craziest  amalga- 


FACE   TO   FACE.  1*75 

mation    of   incongruities   ever    conceived   by  human 

brain. 

Balder,  approaching  from  the  north,  trod  enjoyingly 
the  silken  grass.  No  misgiving  had  he;  his  uncle 
would  hardly  be  from  home,  nor  would  he  be  apt  to 
discredit  his  nephew's  identity.  His  face  had  already 
been  evidence  to  more  than  one  former  knower  of 
his  father,  and  why  not  also  to  his  uncle  ? 

The  house  was  more  than  half  a  mile  in  a  direct 
line  from  the  birch-tree,  and  presented  an  imposing 
appearance  ;  but  on  drawing  near,  the  odd  architectural 
discrepancies  became  noticeable.  Side  by  side  with 
the  prosy  Americanism  of  the  northern  wing,  sprang 
gracefully  the  Moorish  columns  of  the  portico  ;  be 
yond,  -uprose  in  massive  granite,  quaintly  inscribed 
and  carved,  and  strengthened  by  heavy  pilasters,  the 
ponderous  Egyptian  features  of  the  southern  portion. 
The  latter  was  neither  storied  nor  windowed,  and,  as 
Balder  conjectured,  probably  contained  but  a  single 
vast  room,  lighted  from  within. 

Meanwhile  there  were  no  signs  of  an  inhabitant, 
either  in  the  house  or  out  of  it.  It  wore  in  parts  an 
air  of  emptiness  and  neglect,  not  exactly  as  though 
gone  to  seed,  brit  as  if  little  human  love  and  care  had 
been  expended  there.  The  deep-set  windows  of  the 
brick  wing,  like  the  sunken  eyes  of  an  old  woman, 
peered  at  the  visitor  with  dusky  forlornness.  Lonely 


176  IDOLATRY. 

and  stern  on  the  other  side  stood  the  Egyptian  pilas 
ters,  as  though  unused  to  the  eye  of  man ;  the  hiero 
glyphics  along  the  cornice  intensified  the  impression 
of  desertion.  As  the  young  man  set  foot  beneath  the 
portico,  he  laid  a  hand  on  one  of  the  slender  pillars, 
to  assure  himself  that  it  was  real,  and  not  a  vision. 
Cool,  solid  marble  met  his  grasp ;  the  building  did  not 
vanish  in  a  peal  of  thunder,  with  an  echo  of  demoniac 
laughter.  Yes,  all  was  real ! 

But  the  stillness  was  impressive,  and  Balder  struck 
the  pillar  sharply  with  his  palm,  merely  for  the  sake 
of  hearing  a  noise.  There  was  no  answering  sound, 
so,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  walked  to  the  door, 
—  which  stood  ajar,  —  purposing  to  call  in  the  aid  of 
bell  and  knocker.  Neither  of  these  civilized  appliances 
was  to  be  found.  While  debating  whether  to  use 
his  voice  or  to  enter  and  use  his  eyes,  the  note  of  the 
hoopoe  fell  on  his  ear.  An  instant  after  came  an 
answering  note,  deeper,  sweeter,  and  stronger,  —  it 
thrilled  to  Balder's  heart,  bringing  to  his  mind,  by 
some  subtile  process,  the  goddess  of  the  cliff. 

He  crossed  the  oak-panelled  hall  (where  the  essence 
of  mediaeval  England  lingered)  and  came  to  the  thresh 
old  of  the  conservatory.  It  was  a  scene  confusedly 
beautiful.  The  air,  as  it  touched  his  face,  was  tropi 
cally  warm  and  indolent  with  voluptuous  fragrance  of 
flowers  and  plants.  Luxuriant  shrubs,  with  broad- 


FACE   TO  FACE.  177 

drooping  leaves,  stood  motionless  in  the  heat.  Two 
palm-trees  uplifted  their  heavy  plumes  forty  feet  aloft, 
on  slender  stalks,  brushing  the  high  glass  roof.  In 
the  midst  of  the  conservatory  a  pool  slumbered  be 
tween  rocky  margins,  overgrown  with  a  profusion  of 
reeds,  grasses,  and  water-plants.  There  floated  the 
giant  leaves  and  blossoms  of  the  tropic  water-lily  ; 
and  on  a  fragment  of  rock  rising  above  the  surface 
dozed  a  small  crocodile,  not  more  than  four  feet  long, 
but  looking  as  old,  dried  up,  and  coldly  cruel  as  sin 
itself ! 

The  place  looked  like  an  Indian  jungle,  and  Balder 
half  expected  to  see  the  glancing  spots  of  a  tiger 
crouching  beneath  the  overarching  leaves  ;  or  a  naked 
savage  with  bow  and  arrows.  But  amid  all  this  vege 
table  luxuriance  appeared  no  human  being,  —  no  ani 
mal  save  the  evil  crocodile.  Whence,  then,  that 
melodious  voice,  —  clear  essence  of  nature's  sweetest 
utterances  ? 

At  the  left  of  the  conservatory  was  a  door,  the  en 
trance  to  the  Egyptian  temple.  It  was  square  and 
heavy-browed,  flanked  by  short  thick  columns  rising 
from  a  base  of  sculptured  papyrus-leaves,  and  flower 
ing  in  lotus  capitals.  Three  marble  steps  led  to  the 
threshold,  while  on  either  side  reclined  a  sphinx  in 
polished  granite,  softened,  however,  by  a  delicate  flower 
ing  vine,  which  had  been  trained  to  cling  round  their 
8*  L 


178  IDOLATRY. 

necks.  On  the  deep  panels  of  the  door  were  mystic 
emblems  carved  in  relief.  A  line  of  hieroglyphics  in 
scribed  the  lintel  in  deep  blue,  red,  and  black,  —  to 
what  purport  Balder  could  not  divine. 

At  the  opposite  side  of  the  conservatory  was  a  cor 
responding  door,  veiled  by  an  ample  fold  of  silken 
tapestry,  cunningly  hand-worked  in  representation  of  a 
moon  half  veiled  in  clouds,  shining  athwart  a  stormy 
sea.  By  her  light  a  laboring  ship  was  warned  off  the 
rocks  to  leeward.  The  room  (one  of  the  later  addi 
tions)  by  its  external  promise  might  have  been  the 
bower  of  some  fashionable  beauty  thousands  of  years 
ago. 

Balder  looked  from  one  of  these  doors  to  the  other, 
doubting  at  which  to  apply.  The  tapestry  curtain  was 
swept  aside  at  the  base,  leaving  a  small  passage  clear 
to  the  room  beyond.  In  this  opening  now  appeared  the 
bright-crested  head  and  eyes  of  the  hoopoe,  peeping 
mischievously  at  the  intruder,  who  forthwith  stepped 
down  into  the  conservatory,  holding  forth  to  the  little 
bird  a  friendly  finger.  .  The  bird  eyed  him  critically, 
then  launched  itself  on  the  air,  and,  alighting  on  a 
spray  above  his  head,  warbled  out  a  brilliant  call. 

Hereupon  was  heard  within  a  quick  rustling  move 
ment  ;  the  curtain  was  thrust  aside,  and  a  youthful 
woman  issued  forth  amongst  the  warm  plants.  She 
was  within  a  few  feet  of  Balder  Helwyse  before  seem- 


FACE   TO   FACE.  179 

ing  to  realize  his  presence.  She  caught  herself  motion 
less  in  an  instant.  The  sparkle  of  laughter  in  her  eyes 
sank  in  a  black  depth  of  wonder.  Her  eyes  filled 
themselves  with  Balder  as  a  lake  is  filled  with  sun 
shine  ;  and  he,  the  man  of  the  world  and  philosopher, 
could  only  return  her  gaze  in  voiceless  admiration. 

Were  a  face  and  form  of  primal  perfection  to  appear 
among  men,  might  not  its  divine  originality  repel  an 
ordinary  observer,  used  to  consider  beautiful  such  abor 
tions  of  the  Creator's  design  as  sin  and  degeneration 
have  produced  ?  Not  easily  can  one  imagine  what  a 
real  man  or  woman  would  look  like.  Painting  nor 
sculpture  can  teach  us ;  we  must  learn,  if  at  all,  from 
living,  electric  flesh  and  blood. 

This  young  woman  was  tall  and  erect  with  youthful 
majesty.  She  stood  like  the  rejoicing  upgush  of  a 
living  fountain.  Her  contour  was  subtile  with  womanly 
power, — suggesting  the  spring  of  the  panther,  the  glide 
of  the  serpent.  Warm  she  seemed  from  the  bosom  of 
nature.  One  felt  from  her  the  influence  of  trees,  the 
calm  of  meadows,  the  high  freedom  of  the  blue  air,  the 
happiness  of  hills.  She  might  have  been  the  sister  of 
the  sun. 

The  moulding  finger  of  God  seemed  freshly  to  have 
touched  her  face.  It  was  simple  and  harmonious  as 
a  chord  of  music,  yet  inexhaustible  in  its  variety.  It 
recalled  no  other  face,  yet  might  be  seen  in  it  the 


180 


IDOLATRY. 


germs  of  a  mighty  nation,  that  should  begin  from  her, 
and  among  a  myriad  resemblances  evolve  no  perfect 
duplicate.  No  angel's  countenance,  but  warmest  human 
clay,  which  must  undergo  some  change  before  reaching 
heaven.  The  sphinx,  before  the  gloom  of  her  riddle 
had  dimmed  her  primal  joy,  — before  men  vexed  them 
selves  to  unravel  God's  webs  from  without  instead  of 
from  within,  —  might  have  looked  thus ;  or  such  per 
haps  was  Tsis  in  the  first  flush  of  her  divinity,  —  fresh 
from  Him  who  made  her  immortally  young  and  fair. 

Her  black  hair  was  crowned  with  a  low,  compact 
turban,  —  a  purple  and  white  twist  of  some  fine  cot 
tony  substance,  striped  with  gold.  Eound  her  wide, 
low  brow  fitted  a  band  of  jewelled  gold,  three  fingers' 
breadth,  from  which  at  each  temple  depended  a  broad, 
flat  chain  of  woven  coral,  following  the  margin  of  the 
cheeks  and  falling  loose  on  the  shoulders.  A  golden 
serpent  coiled  round  her  smooth  throat  and  drooped  its 
head  low  down  in  her  bosom.  Her  elastic  feet,  arched 
like  a  dolphin's  back,  were  sandalled ;  the  bright-colored 
straps,  crossing  one  another  half-way  to  the  knee,  set 
dazzlingly  off  the  clear,  dusky  whiteness  of  the  skin. 

From  her  shoulders  fell  a  long  full  robe  of  purple 
byssus,  over  an  underdress  of  white  which  reached  the 
knee.  This  tunic  was  confined  at  the  waist  by  a  hun 
dred-fold  girdle,  embroidered  with  rainbow  flowers  and 
fastened  in  a  broad  knot  below  the  bosom,  the  low- 


FACE    TO   FACE.  181 

hanging  ends  heavy  with  fringe.  The  outer  robe,  with 
its  long  drooping  sleeves  falling  open  at  the  elbow,  was 
ample  enough  wholly  to  envelop  the  figure,  but  was 
now  girded  up  and  one  fold  brought  round  and  thrust 
beneath  the  girdle  in  front,  to  give  freedom  of  motion. 
A  rare  perfume  emanated  from  her,  like  the  evening 
breath  of  orange-blossoms. 

Balder  was  no  unworthy  balance  to  this  picture, 
though  his  else  stately  features  showed  too  much  the" 
stimulus  of  modern  thought.  He  was  eminent  by  cul 
ture  ;  she  by  nature  only.  But  Balder's  culture  had 
not  greatened  him.  Greatness  is  not  of  the  brain,  save 
as  allied  to  the  deep,  pure  chords  which  thrill  at  the 
base  of  the  human  symphony.  He  might  have  stood 
for  our  age ;  she,  for  that  more  primitive  but  pro- 
founder  era  which  is  at  once  man's  beginning  and 
his  goal. 

Balder's  eyes  could  not  frankly  hold  their  own 
against  her  gaze  of  awful  simplicity.  All  he  had  ever 
done  amiss  arose  and  put  him  to  the  blush.  Neverthe 
less,  he  would  not  admit  his  inferiority;  instead  of 
dropping  his  eyes  he  closed  the  soul  behind  them,  and 
sharpened  them  with  a  shallow,  out-striking  light. 
Without  understanding  the  change,  she  felt  it  and  was 
troubled.  Loftily  majestic  as  were  her  form  and  fea 
tures,  she  was  feminine  to  the  core,  —  tender  and  finely 
perceptive.  The  incisive  masculine  gaze  abashed  her. 


182  IDOL  ATE  Y. 

She  raised  one  hand  deprecatingly,  and  her  lips  moved, 
though  without  sound. 

He  relented  at  this,  and  straightway  her  expression 
again  shifted,  and  she  smiled  so  radiantly  that  Balder 
almost  looked  to  see  whence  came  the  light !  The 
wondrous  lines  of  her  face  curved  and  softened ;  all 
that  was  grave  vanished.  A  tree  standing  in  the  sober 
beauty  of  shadow,  when  suddenly  lit  by  the  sun, 
changes  as  she  changed;  for  sunshine  is  the  laughter 
of  the  world. 

The  smile  refreshed  her  courage,  for  she  came  nearer 
and  made  a  sideways  movement  with  her  arm,  appar 
ently  with  the  expectation  that  it  would  pass  through 
the  stalwart  young  man  as  readily  as  through  the  air. 
On  encountering  solid  substance,  she  drew  startled 
back,  half  in  alarm  and  wholly  in  surprise.  Balder 
had  felt  her  touch,  first  as  a  benediction ;  then  it 
chilled  him,  through  remembrance  of  a  deed  for 
ever  debarring  him  from  aught  so  pure  and  innocent 
as  she.  The  subtleties  of  his  philosophy  might  have 
cajoled  him  anywhere  save  in  her  presence.  There,  he 
felt  unmistakably  guilty ;  yet  from  irrational  dread  that 
she,  whose  intuitions  seemed  so  swift  and  deep,  might 
grasp  the  cause  of  his  discomposure,  he  strove  to  hide 
it.  Last  of  all  the  world  should  she  know  his  crime ! 

Scarce  two  minutes  since  their  meeting,  yet  perhaps 
a  large  proportion  of  their  lives  had  meanwhile  been 


FACE  TO   FACE.  183 

charmed  away.  No  word  had  been  spoken,  —  eyes  had 
superseded  tongues.  Naj,  was  ordinary  conversation 
possible  with  a  young  goddess  such  as  this  ?  So  per 
fect  seemed  her  mastery  over  those  profounder  ele 
ments  of  intercourse  underlying  speech,  which  are 
higher  and  more  direct  than  the  mechanism  of  artic 
ulate  words,  that  perhaps  the  latter  method  was  un 
known  to  her. 

Nevertheless,  one  must  say  something.  But  what  ? 
—  with  what  sentence  of  supreme  significance  should 
he  begin  ?  Moreover,  what  language  should  he  use  ? 
for  she,  whose  look  and  bearing  were  so  alien  to  the 
land  and  age,  might  likewise  be  a  stranger  to  modern 
dialects.  But  Aryan  or  Semitic  was  not  precisely  at 
the  tip  of  Balder' s  tongue  ! 

In  the  midst  of  his  embarrassment,  the  startling 
note  of  the  hoopoe  pierced  his  ear,  and  precipitated 
him  into  asking  that  great  elemental  question  which 
all  created  things  are  forever  putting  to  one  another,  — 

"  What  is  your  name  ? " 


XVIII. 

THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CEOCODILE. 


NULEMAH  !  "  she  answered,  laying  a  finger  on 
the  head  of  her  golden  serpent,  and  uttering 
the  name  as  though  it  were  of  the  only  woman  in  the 
world. 

But  the  next  moment  she  found  time  to  realize  that 
something  unprecedented  had  occurred,  and  her  wonder 
trembled  on  the  brink  of  dismay. 

"  Speaks  in  my  language  !  "  she  exclaimed  below  her 
breath  ;  "  but  is  not  Hiero  !  " 

Until  Balder's  arrival,  then,  Hiero  would  seem  to 
have  been  the  only  talking  animal  she  had  known. 
The  singularity  of  this  did  not  at  first  strike  the  young 
man.  Gnulemah  was  the  arch-wonder  ;  yet  she  so  fully 
justified  herself  as  to  seem  very  nature  ;  and  by  dint  of 
her  magic  reality,  what  else  had  been  wonderful  seemed 
natural.  Balder  was  in  fairy-land. 

He  fell  easily  into  the  fairy  -land  humor. 

"  I  am  a  being  like  yourself,"  said  he,  with  a  smile  ; 
"  and  not  dumb  like  your  plants  and  animals." 

"  Understood  !  —  answered  !  "    exclaimed   Gnulemah 


THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CROCODILE.       185 

again,  in  a  tremor.  As  morning  spreads  up  the  sky, 
did  the  sweet  blood  flow  outward  to  warm  her  face  and 
neck.  As  the  blush  deepened,  her  eyelids  fell,  and  she 
shielded  her  beautiful  embarrassment  with  her  raised 
hands.  A  pathos  in  the  simple  grace  of  this  action 
drew  tears  unawares  to  Balder's  eyes. 

What  was  in  her  mind  ?  what  might  she  be  ?  Had 
she  lived  always  in  this  enchanted  spot,  companionless 
(for  poor  old  Hiero  could  scarcely  serve  her  turn)  and 
ignorant  perhaps  that  the  world  held  other  beings  en 
dowed  like  herself  with  human  gifts  ?  Had  she  vainly 
sought  throughout  nature  for  some  kinship  more  in 
timate  than  nature  could  yield  her,  and  thus  at  length 
fancied  herself  a  unique,  independently  created  soul, 
imperial  over  all  things  ?  Since  her  whole  world  was 
comprised  between  the  wall  and  the  river,  no  doubt  she 
believed  the  reality  of  things  extended  no  further. 

In  Balder  she  had  found  a  creature  like,  yet  pleas 
ingly  unlike  herself,  palpable  to  feeling  as  to  sight,  and 
gifted  with  that  articulate  utterance  which  till  now  she 
had  accounted  her  almost  peculiar  faculty.  Delightful 
might  be  the  discovery,  but  awesome  too,  frightening 
her  back  by  its  very  tendency  to  draw  her  forward. 

Whether  or  not  this  were  the  solution  of  Gnulernah's 
mystery,  Balder  recognized  quiet  to  be  his  cue  towards 
her.  Probably  he  could  not  do  better  than  to  get  the 
ear  of  Doctor  Hiero,  and  establish  himself  upon  a 


186  IDOLATRY. 

footing  more  conventional  than  the  present  one.  His 
next  step  accordingly  was  to  ask  after  him  by  name. 

She  peeped  at  the  questioner  between  her  fingers, 
but  ventured  not  quite  to  emerge  from  behind  them, 
as  she  answered,  —  her  primary  attempt  at  descrip 
tion,  — 

"Hiero  is—  Hiero  !  " 

"And  how  long  have  you  been  here?"  inquired 
Balder  with  a  smile. 

Gnulemah  forgot  her  embarrassment  in  wondering 
how  so  remarkable  a  creature  happened  to  ask  ques 
tions  whose  answers  her  whole  world  knew ! 

"  We  are  always  here ! "  she  exclaimed ;  and  added, 
after  a  moment's  doubtful  scrutiny,  "  Are  you  a  spirit  ? " 

"  An  embodied  spirit,  —  yes  ! "  answered  he,  smiling 
again. 

"  One  of  those  I  see  beyond,"  —  she  pointed  towards 
the  cliff,  —  "  that  move  and  seem  to  live,  but  are  only 
shadows  in  the  great  picture  ?  No !  for  I  cannot  touch 
them  nor  speak  with  them ;  they  never  answer  me ; 
they  are  shadows."  She  paused  and  seemed  to  strug 
gle  with  her  bewilderment. 

"  They  are  shadows ! "  repeated  Helwyse  to  himself. 

Though  no  Hermetic  philosopher,  he  was  aware  of  a 
symbolic  truth  in  the  fanciful  dogma.  Outside  his 
immediate  circle,  the  world  is  a  shadow  to  every  man ; 
his  fellow-beings  are  no  more  than  apparitions,  till  he 


THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CROCODILE.       187 

grasps  them  by  the  hand.  So  to  Gnulemah  the  cliff 
and  the  garden  wall  were  her  limits  of  real  exist 
ence.  The  great  picture  outside  could  be  true  for 
her  only  after  she  had  gone  forth  and  felt  as  well  as 
seen  it. 

Fancy  aside,  however,  was  not  hers  a  condition 
morally  and  mentally  deplorable  ?  Exquisitely  devel 
oped  in  body,  must  not  her  mind  have  grown  rank  with 
weeds,  —  beautiful  perhaps,  but  poisonous  ? .  Herein 
Balder  fancied  he  could  trace  the  one-sided  influence 
of  his  crack-brained  uncle.  Whether  his  daughter  or 
not,  Gnulemah  was  evidently  a  victim  of  his  experi 
mental  mania.  What  particular  crotchet  could  he 
have  been  humoring  in  this  case  ?  Was  it  an  at 
tempt  to  get  back  to  the  early  sense  of  the  human 
race  ? 

The  materials  for  such  an  evolution  were  certainly 
of  tempting  excellence.  In  point  of  beauty  and  ap 
parent  natural  capacity,  Gnulemah  might  claim  equal 
ity  with  the  noblest  daughter  of  the  Pharaohs.  The 
grand  primary  problem  of  how  to  isolate  her  from  all 
contact  with  the  outside  world  was,  under  the  existing 
circumstances,  easy  of  solution.  Beyond  this  there 
needed  little  positive  treatment.  Her  creed  must 
arise  from  her  own  instinctive  and  intuitive  impres 
sions.  Of  all  beyond  the  reach  of  her  hands,  she 
must  trust  to  her  eyes  alone  for  information  ;  no  mar- 


188  IDOLATRY. 

vel,  therefore,  if  her  conclusions  concerning  the  great 
intangible  phenomena  of  the  universe  were  fantastic  as 
the  veriest  heathen  myths.  The  self-evolved  feelings 
and  impulses  of  a  black-eyed  nymph  like  Gnulemah 
were  not  likely  to  be  orthodox.  She  was  probably  no 
better  than  a  worshipper  of  vain  delusions  and  idols 
of  the  imagination. 

Her  attire  —  a  style  of  costume  such  as  might  have 
been  the  fashion  in  the  days  of  Cheops  or  Tuthmosis 
—  showed  a  carrying  out  of  the  Doctor's  whim,  —  a 
matching  of  the  external  to  the  internal  conditions  of 
the  age  he  aimed  to  reproduce.  The  project  seemed,  on 
the  whole,  to  have  been  well  conceived  and  consist 
ently  prosecuted.  It  was  seldom  that  Uncle  Hiero 
achieved  so  harmonious  a  piece  of  work ;  but  the  idea 
showed  greater  moral  obliquity  than  Balder  would  have 
looked  for  in  the  old  gentleman. 

But  there  was  no  deep  sincerity  in  the  young  man's 
strictures.  There  before  him  stood  the  woman  Gnu 
lemah,  —  purple,  white,  and  gold ;  a  vivid,  breathing, 
warm-hued  life ;  a  soul  and  body  rich  with  Oriental 
splendor.  There  she  stood,  her  hair  flowing  dark  and 
silky  from  beneath  her  twisted  turban,  her  eyes,  —  black 
melted  loadstones  ;  the  broad  Egyptian  pendants  gleam 
ing  and  glowing  from  temple  to  shoulder.  The  golden 
serpent  seemed  to  writhe  on  her  bosom,  informed  from 
its  wearer  with  a  subtile  vitality.  Through  all  domi- 


THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CROCODILE.       189 

nated  a  grand  repose,  like  the  calm  of  nature,  which 
storms  may  prove  but  not  disthron^! 

There  she  stood,  —  enchanted  princess,  witch,  god 
dess, —  woman  at  all  events,  palpable  and  undeniable. 
She  must  be  accepted  for  what  she  was,  civilized  or 
uncivilized,  heathen  or  Christian.  She  was  a  perfected 
achievement,  —  vain  to  argue  how  she  might  have  been 
made  better.  Who  says  that  an  evening  cloud,  gor 
geous  in  purple  and  heavenly  gold,  were  more  usefully 
employed  fertilizing  a  garden-patch  ? 

Balder  Helwyse,  moreover,  was  not  a  simple  util 
itarian  ;  he  was  almost  ready  to  make  a  religion  of 
beauty.  If  he  blamed  his  uncle  for  shutting  up  this 
superb  creature  within  herself,  he  failed  not  to  admire 
the  result  of  the  imprisonment.  He  knew  he  was  be 
holding  as  rare  a  spectacle  as  ever  man's  eyes  were 
blessed  withal ;  nor  was  he  slow  to  perceive  the  psy 
chological  interest  of  the  situation.  To  a  student  of 
mankind,  if  to  no  one  else,  Gnulemah  was  beyond  esti 
mation  precious.  But  had  Balder  forgotten  what  fruit 
his  tree  of  philosophy  had  already  yielded  him  ? 

At  all  events,  he  forbore  to  press  his  question  as  to 
the  whereabouts  of  Uncle  Hiero,  who  would  turn  up 
sooner  or  later.  It  was  enough  for  the  present  to  know 
that  he  still  existed.  Meanwhile  he  would  sound  the 
depths  of  this  fresh  nature,  undisturbed. 

The  hoopoe  (who  had  played  an  important  part  in 


190  IDOLATRY. 

promoting  the  acquaintance  thus  far)  forsook  his  perch 
above  Balder's  head,  and  after  hovering  for  a  moment 
in  mid-air,  as  if  to  select  the  best  spot,  he  alighted  on 
the  mossy  cushion  at  the  foot  of  the  twin  palm-trees. 
Such  a  couch  might  Adam  and  Eve  have  rejoiced  to 
find  in  Paradise.  Balder  took  the  hint,  and  without 
more  ado  threw  himself  down  there,  while  Gnulemah 
half  knelt,  half  sat  beside  him,  propped  on  her  arm, 
her  warm  fingers  buried  in  the  cool  moss.  The  little 
master-of-ceremonies  remained,  with  a  fine  sense  of 
propriety,  between  the  two,  preening  and  fluttering  his 
brilliant  feathers  and  casting  diamond  glances  sidelong. 

"  You  remember  nothing  before  coming  to  this  place, 
Gnulemah  ? " 

"  Only  dream-memories,  that  grow  dimmer.  Before 
this,  I  was  a  spirit  in  the  great  picture,  and  when  my 
lamp  goes  out  I  shall  return  thither." 

"  Your  lamp,  Gnulemah  ?  —  what  lamp  ? " 

"  How  can  you  understand  me  and  yet  not  know 
what  I  know  ?  My  lamp  is  the  light  of  my  life  ;  it 
burns  always  in  the  temple  yonder ;  when  it  goes  out 
my  life  will  become  a  darkness,  for  I  am  Gnulemah, 
the  daughter  of  fire  ! " 

"  I  knew  not  that  my  uncle  was  a  poet,"  muttered 
Balder  to  himself.  "A  daughter  of  fire,  — yes,  there 
is  lightning  in  her  eyes  ! "  Aloud  he  said,  secretly 
alluding  to  the  manner  of  his  descent  into  the  gar 
den,  — 


THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CEOCODILE.       191 

"  I  dropped  from  the  sky  into  your  world,  Gnulemah. 
Though  we  can  talk  together,  whatever  we  tell  each 
other  will  be  new." 

She  caught  the  idea  of  a  lifetime  spent  instructing 
this  delightful  being,  and  receiving  in  return  instruc 
tion  from  him.  She  entered  at  once  the  charming 
vista. 

"  Tell  me/'  she  began,  bending  towards  him  in  her 
earnestness,  "  are  there  others  like  you  ?  —  are  they 
bright  and  beautiful  as  you  are  ?  —  or  do  they  look 
like  Hiero  ? " 

Balder  laughed,  and  flushed,  and  his  heart  warmed 
pleasurably.  Here  was  a  compliment  from  the  very 
soul  of  nature.  And  albeit  the  lovely  flatterer's  ex 
perience  of  men  was  avowedly  most  limited,  yet  her 
taste  was  unvitiated  as  her  sincerity,  and  her  judgment 
may  therefore  have  been  more  valuable  than  that  of 
the  most  practised  belle  of  fashion.  But  he  answered 
modestly,  — 

"  Hiero  and  I  are  both  men,  and  there  are  as  many 
men  as  stars  in  heaven,  and  as  many  women  as  men, — 
myriads  of  men  and  women,  Gnulemah  !  " 

She  lifted  her  face  and  hand  in  eloquent  astonish 
ment. 

"  0,  what  a  world ! "  she  exclaimed  in  her  low- 
toned  way.  "  But  are  the  women  all  like  me  ? " 

"  There  is  not  one  like  you,"  answered  Balder,  with 


192  IDOLATRY. 

the  quiet  emphasis  of  conviction.  How  refreshing  was 
it  thus  to  set  aside  conventionalism  !  Her  ingenuous 
ness  brought  forth  the  like  from  him. 

"  Have  you  never  wished  to  go  beyond  the  wall  ? " 
he  asked  her. 

"  Yes,  often ! "  she  said,  fingering  the  golden  serpent 
thoughtfully.  "  But  that  could  not  be  unless  I  put  out 
the  lamp.  Sometimes  I  get  tired  of  this  world,  —  it 
has  changed  since  I  first  came  to  it." 

"  Is  it  less  beautiful  ?  " 

"  It  is  smaller  than  it  used  to  be,"  said  Gnulemah, 
pensively.  "  Once  the  house  was  so  high,  it  seemed  to 
touch  heaven ;  —  see  how  it  has  dwindled  since  then  ! 
And  so  with  other  things  that  are  on  earth.  The  stars 
and  the  sun  and  clouds,  they  have  riot  changed ! " 

"  That  is  a  consolation,  is  it  not  ? "  observed  Bal 
der,  between  a  smile  and  a  sigh.  Gnulemah  was  not 
the  first  to  charge  upon  the  world  the  alterations  in  the 
individual ;  nor  the  first,  either,  to  find  comfort  in  the 
constancy  of  Heaven. 

She  went  on,  won  to  further  confidence  by  her  listen 
er's  sympathy,  — 

"  I  used  to'  hope  the  wall  would  one  day  become  so 
low  that  I  might  pass  over  it.  But  it  has  ceased  to 
change,  and  is  still  too  high.  Shall  I  ever  see  the 
other  side  ? " 

"  It  can  be  broken  down  if  need  be.     But  you  might 


THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CROCODILE.       193 

go  far  before  finding  a  world  so  fair  as  this.  Perhaps 
it  would  be  better  to  stand  on  the  cliff,  and  only  look 
forth  across  the  river." 

"I  cannot  stay  always  here/'  returned  Gnulemah, 
shaking  her  turbaned  head,  with  its  gleaming  bandeau 
and  rattling  pendants.  "But  no  wall  is  between  me 
and  the  sky ;  the  flame  of  my  lamp  goes  upward,  and 
why  should  not  Gnulemah  ? " 

"A  friend  is  the  only  world  one  does  not  tire  of," 
he  replied  after  a  pause.  "  You  have  lacked  compan 
ions." 

Gnulemah  glanced  down  at  the  hoopoe,  who  forth 
with  warbled  aloud  and  fluttered  up  to  her  shoulder. 
The  bird  was  her  companion,  and  so,  likewise,  were  the 
plants  and  flowers.  Gnulemah  could  converse  with 
them  in  their  own  language.  Nature  was  her  friend 
and  confidant,  and  intimately  communed  with  her. 

All  this  was  conveyed  to  Balder's  apprehension,  not 
by  words,  but  by  some  subtile  expressiveness  of  eye 
and  gesture.  Gnulemah  could  give  voiceless  utterances 
in  a  manner  pregnant  and  felicitous  almost  beyond 
belief. 

"I   meet  also  a  beautiful  maiden  in  the  looking-  • 
glass,"  she  added;  "her  face  and  motion  are  always 
the  same  as  my  own.     But  though  she  seems  to  speak, 
her  voice  never  reaches  me ;  and  she  smiles,  but  only 
when  I  smile ;  and  mourns  only  when  I  mourn.     We 


9 


M 


194  IDOLATRY. 

can  never  reach  each  other ;  but  there  is  more  in  her 
than  in  iny  birds  and  flowers." 

"  She  is  the  shadow  of  yourself ;  no  reality,  Gnu- 
lemah." 

"  Are  we  shadows  of  each  other,  then  ?  is  she  weary 
of  her  world,  as  I  of  mine  ?  shall  we  both  escape  to 
some  other,  —  or  only  pass  each  into  the  other's,  and 
be  separated  as  before  ? " 

Balder,  like  wise  men  before  him,  was  at  some  loss 
how  to  bring  his  wisdom  to  bear  here.  He  could  not 
in  one  sentence  explain  the  complicated  phenomena  in 
question.  Fortunately,  however,  Gnulemah  (who  had 
apparently  not  yet  learned  to  appeal  from  her  own  to 
another's  judgment)  seemed  hardly  to  expect  a  solution 
to  problems  upon  which  she  had  expended  much  pri 
vate  thought. 

"  I  have  come  to  look  on  her  as  though  she  were  my 
self,  and  she  tells  me  secrets  which  no  one  else  can 
know.  Some  things  she  tells  me  that  I  do  not  care  to 
hear,  but  they  are  always  true.  I  can  see  changes  in 
her  face  that  I  feel  in  my  own  heart." 

"  Does  she  teach  you  that  you  grow  every  day  more 
beautiful  ? "  He  was  willing  to  prove  whether  Gnu 
lemah  could  thus  be  disconcerted.  Many  a  woman  had 
he  known,  surprisingly  innocent  until  a  chance  word 
or  glance  betrayed  profoundest  depths. 

"  Our  beauty  is  like  the  garden,  which  is  beautiful 


THE  HOOPOE   AND   THE   CROCODILE.  195 

every  day,  though  no  day  is  just  like  another.  But  the 
changes  I  mean  are  in  the  spirit  that  looks  back  at  me 
from  her  eyes,  when  I  enter  deeply  into  them." 

What  connection  could,  after  all,  subsist  between 
beauty  and  vanity  in  one  who  neither  had  rivals  nor 
aught  to  rival  for  ?  Doubtless  she  enjoyed  her  beauty, 
—  the  more,  as  her  taste  was  pure  of  conventional 
falsities.  How  much  of  worldly  experience  would  it 
take  to  vitiate  that  integrity  in  her  ?  Would  it  not  be 
better  to  leave  her  to  end  her  life,  restricted  to  the 
same  innocent  and  lovely  companionship  which  had 
been  hers  thus  far  ?  Here  the  hoopoe,  startled  at  some 
movement  that  Balder  made,  abandoned  his  perch  on 
his  mistress's  shoulder,  and  flew  to  the  top  of  the  palm- 
tree.  Had  the  day. when  such  friends  would  suffice 
her  needs  gone  by  ? 

Yes,  it  was  now  too  late.  No  one  who  has  beheld 
the  sun  can  thenceforth  dispense  with  it.  Balder  had 
shone  across  the  beautiful  recluse's  path,  and  linked 
her  to  outside  realities  by  a  chain  which,  whether  he 
went  or  stayed,  would  never  break.  Flowers,  birds, 
shadows  in  the  mirror,  —  less  than  nothing  would 
these  things  be  to  her  from  this  hour  on. 

Heretofore  the  intercourse  between  the  two  had  been 
tentative  and  incoherent,  —  a  doubtful,  aimless  grap 
pling  with  strange  conditions  which  seemed  delightful, 
but  might  mask  unknown  dangers.  No  solid  basis  of 


196  IDOLATRY. 

mutual  acquaintanceship  had  been  even  approached. 
Balder,  accustomed  though  he  was  to  woman's  society, 
knew  not  how  to  apply  his  experience  here;  while 
Gnulemah  had  not  yet  perhaps  decided  whether  her 
visitor  were  natural  or  supernatural.  The  man  was 
probably  the  less  at  ease  of  the  two,  rinding  himself  in 
a  pass  through  which  tradition  nor  culture  could  pilot 
him.  Gnulemah,  being  used  to  daily  communion  with 
things  mysterious  to  her  understanding,  would  scarcely 
have  altered  her  demeanor  had  Balder  turned  out  to  be 
a  genie ! 

But  the  first  step  towards  fixing  the  relations  be 
tween  them  was  already  taken.  The  young  man's 
abrupt  movement  of  his  hand  to  his  face  (probably 
with  purpose  to  stroke  the  beard  no  longer  growing 
there)  had  not  only  scared  away  the  hoopoe,  but  had 
flashed  on  Gnulemah  a  ray  from  the  diamond  ring. 

She  rose  to  her  feet  suddenly,  yet  easily  as  a  star 
tled  serpent  rears  erect  its  body.  Vivid  emotion 
lightened  in  her  face.  Balder  knew  not  what  to 
make  of  the  look  she  gleamed  at  him. 

"  What  are  you  ? "  she  asked,  her  voice  sunk  to 
almost  a  whisper.  "  Hiero  ?  —  are  you  Hiero  ? " 

Balder  stared  confounded,  —  partly  inclined  to 
smile  ! 

"  Come  back,  —  transfigured  !  "  she  went  on,  her 
eyes  deepening  with  awe.  What  did  it  mean  ?  Some- 


THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CROCODILE.       197 

what  disturbed,  Balder  got  also  on  his  feet.  As  he  did 
so,  Gnulemah  crouched  before  him,  holding  out  her 
hands  like  a  suppliant.  An  on-looker  might  have  fan 
cied  that  the  would-be  God  had  found  his  worshipper 
at  last ! 

"  My  name  is  Balder,"  his  Deityship  managed  to 
say.  As  he  spoke,  the  sun  rounded  the  corner  of  the 
house,  and  the  light  fell  brightly  on  him,  Gnulemah 
kneeling  in  shadow.  The  glory  of  his  splendid  youth 
seemed  to  have  shone  out  from  within  him  in  sudden 
effulgence. 

"  Balder  ! "  she  slowly  repeated,  still  gazing  up  at 
him. 

"There  is  a  relationship  between  us,"  said  he,  a 
vague  uneasiness  urging  him  to  take  refuge  behind  the 
quaint  fantasy.  "  You  are  the  daughter  of  fire,  and  I 
the  descendant  of  the  sun  !  " 

He  spoke  the  unpremeditated  notion  which  the  sun 
burst  had  created  in  his  brain,  —  spoke  not  seriously 
nor  yet  lightly.  He  had  as  much  right  to  his  gene 
alogy  as  she  to  hers. 

But  what  a  strange  effect  his  words  wrought  on  her ! 
She  clasped  her  hands  together  quickly  in  a  kind  of 
ecstasy. 

"  The  sun,  —  Balder  !  I  have  prayed  to  him,  —  he 
has  come  to  me,  —  Balder,  my  God ! "  With  how  di 
vine  an  accent  did  her  full  low  voice  give  him  the 


198  IDOLATRY. 

name  to  which  he  had  dared  aspire  !  He  was  God,  — 
and  her  God ! 

He  perhaps  divined  one  part  of  the  process  through 
which  her  mind  must  have  gone ;  but  he  could  not 
find  a  word  to  answer,  whether  of  acceptance  or  dis 
claimer.  He  turned  pale,  —  his  heart  sick.  Had  the 
recognition  of  his  Godhood  been  too  tardy?  Gnu- 
lemah  fancied  he  repulsed  her,  and  her  passion  kin 
dled, —  only  religious  passion,  but  it  seared  him! 

"  Do  not  be  cold  to  me,  Balder  ! "  —  his  name  as  she 
uttered  it  moved  him  as  a  blasphemy.  "  In  my  lonely 
kneelings  I.  have  felt  you !  my  eyes  close,  my  hands 
grow  together,  my  breath  flutters,  every  breath  is  joy 
and  fear!  I  think  'He  is  with  me,  —  the  Being  I 
adore  ! '  but  when  I  opened  my  eyes,  He  was  gone,  — 
Balder  ! " 

Still  motionless  and  seeming-deaf  stood  the  Divinity, 
bathed  in  mocking  sunlight.  He  was  powerless  to  stop 
her  from  unveiling  to  him,  as  to  a  visible  God,  the 
sacred  places  of  her  maiden  heart.  That  sublime  office 
whose  reversion  he  had  boldly  courted,  in  the  posses 
sion  shrivelled  his  soul  to  nothing  and  left  him  dead. 
It  was  not  easy  to  be  God,  —  even  over  one  human 
being ! 

But  Gnulemah,  in  her  mighty  earnestness,  knelt 
nearer,  so  that  the  edge  of  Balder's  sunlight  smote 
the  golden  ornaments  that  clung  round  her  out- 


THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CROCODILE.       199 

stretched  arms.  She  almost  touched  him,  but  though 
his  spirit  recoiled,  the  doltish  flesh  would  not  be 
moved. 

"It  was  not  to  be  always  so,"  she  continued,  an 
appealing  vehemence  quivering  through  her  tones. 
"  Some  day  I  was  to  see  Him  and  know  Him  more 
clearly.  Shine  on  me,  Balder !  am  not  I  your  priest 
ess  ?  in  the  morning  do  not  I  worship  you,  and  at 
noon,  and  in  the  evening  ?  At  night  do  not  I  kneel 
at  your  altar  and  pray  you  to  care  for  me  while  I  sleep  ? 
Hear  me,  Balder !  I  see  you  in  all  things,  —  they  are 
your  thoughts  and  meet  again  in  you  !  The  sun  him 
self  is  but  your  shadow !  Do  not  I  know  you,  my 
Balder  ?  Be  not  clouded  from  your  servant !  Leave 
me  not,  —  take  me  with  you  where  you  go  ! " 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  the  young  man's  mind, 
stumbling  stupidly  hither  and  thither,  chanced  to  en 
counter  that  picture  of  the  courtesan,  leaning  from  the 
open  window  in  the  city  street,  beckoning  him  to  come. 
She  took  Gnulemah's  place,  beckoning,  making  a  hate 
ful  parody  of  Gnulemah's  expression  and  gestures. 
Could  a  devil  take  the  consecrated  place  of  angels  ?  or 
was  the  angel  a  worse  devil  in  disguise  ?  In  the  same 
day,  to  him  the  same  man,  could  two  such  voices  speak, 
—  such  faces  look  ?  And  could  the  germ  of  Godhead 
abide  in  a  soul  liable  to  the  irony  of  such  vicarious 
solicitation  ? 


200 


IDOLATRY. 


Speech  or  motion  was  stiU  denied  him.  His  priest 
ess,  strengthened  by  religious  passion,  was  bold  to 
touch  with  hers  his  divine  hand,  on  the  finger  of  which 
demoniacally  glittered  the  murder-token.  The  hand 
was  so  cold  and  lax  that  even  the  smooth  warmth  of 
her  soft  fingers  failed  to  put  life  in  it. 

"  You  have  taken  Hiero  to  yourself,  —  take  me  also  ! 
be  my  God  as  well  as  his,  for  I  shall  be  alone  now  he 
is  gone.  This  ring  which  he  always  wore  —  " 

Balder  roughly  snatched  back  his  hand. 

"  Hiero's  ring  ? " 

"  Why  do  you  look  so  ?  —  is  it  not  a  sign  to  me  from 
him  ? " 

"Hiero's  ring?  — tell  me,  Gnulemah,  is  this  Hiero's 
ring  ?— Stop  —  stand  up!  No  — call  me  Satan!  — 
Hiero's  ring ! " 

"Where  is  Hiero,  then  ?"  demanded  Gnulemah,  ris 
ing  and  dilating.  "You  wear  his  ring,  — what  have 
you  done  with  him?— Is  there  no  God?" 

The  words  came  riding  on  the  waves  of  deep-drawn 
breaths,  for  her  soul  was  in  a  tumult.  Her  life  had 
thus  far  been  like  a  quiet  sequestered  pool,  reflecting 
only  the  sky,  and  the  ferns  and  flowers  that  bent  above 
its  margin ;  ignorant,  moreover,  of  its  own  depth  and 
nature.  Now,  invaded  by  storm,  God  and  nature 
seemed  swept  away  and  lost,  and  a  terror  of  loneliness 
darkened  over  it. 


THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CROCODILE.       201 

"Is  there  no  Balder?"  reiterated  Gnulemah.  But 
all  at  once  the  fierceness  in  her  eyes  melted,  as  light 
ning  is  followed  by  summer  rain.  She  came  so  near, 
-  he  standing  dulled  with  horror  of  his  discovery,  — 
came  so  near  that  her  breath  touched  him,  and  he 
could  hear  the  faint  rustling  of  the  white  byssus  on  her 
bosom,  and  the  soft  tinkle  of  the  broad  pendants  that 
glowed  against  her  black  hair ;  and  could  see  how  pro 
foundly  real  her  beauty  was.  Mighty  and  beneficent 
must  be  the  force  or  the  law  which  could  combine  the 
rude  elements  into  such  a  form  of  life  as  this  ! 

"  Let  me  live  for  you  and  serve  you !  Though  the 
world  has  no  Balder,  may  not  I  have  mine?  You 
shall  be  everything  to  me!  Without  you  I  cannot 
be ;  but  I  want  no  other  God  if  I  have  my  Balder !" 

This  was  another  matter  !     Nevertheless,  —  so  sub 
tile  is  the  boundary  between  love  human  and  divine, 
—  Gnulemah  in  these  first  passionate  moments  may 
easily  have  deemed  the  one  no  less  sublime  than  the 
other. 

But  there  was  no  danger  of  Balder's  falling  into  such 
an  error.  The  distinction  was  clear  to  him.  Yet  with 
remorse  and  abasement  strove  the  defiant  impulse  to 
pluck  and  eat  —  forgetful  of  this  world  and  the  next  — 
the  royal  fruit  so  fairly  held  to  his  lips ! 

For  herein  fails  the  divinity  of  nature,  — she  can 
minister  as  well  to  man's  depravity  as  to  his  exalta- 


202  IDOLATRY. 

tion ;  which  could  not  happen  were  she  one  with  God. 
Nay,  man  had  need  be  strong  with  Divine  inspiration, 
before  communing  unharmed  with  nature's  dangerous 
loveliness. 

His  hand  in  Gnulemah's  was  now  neither  cold  nor 
lax.  She  raised  it  in  impetuous  homage  to  her  fore 
head.  The  diamond  left  a  mark  there;  first  white, 
then  red.  For  a  breath  or  two,  their  eyes  saw  depths 
in  each  other  beyond  words'  fathoming  .... 

A  door  was  closed  above ;  and  the  echo  stole  down 
stairs  and  crept  with  a  hollow  whisper  into  the  con 
servatory.  The  little  lord  chamberlain  fluttered  down 
from  his  lofty  perch  and  hovered  between  the  two 
faces,  his  penetrating  note  sounding  like  a  warning. 
Gnulemah  drew  back,  and  a  swift  blush  let  fall  its  rosy 
veil  from  the  golden  gleam  of  her  jewelled  forehead- 
band  to  below  the  head  of  the  serpent  which  twisted 
round  her  neck. 

One  parting  look  she  gave  Balder,  pregnant  of  new 
wonder,  fear,  and  joy.  Then  she  turned  and  glided 
with  quick  ophidian  grace  to  the  doorway  from  which 
she  had  first  appeared,  and  was  eclipsed  by  the  curtain. 
The  inner  door  shut;  she  was  gone.  Dull,  dull  and 
colorless  was  the  conservatory.  The  hoopoe  had  flown 
out  through  the  hall  to  the  open  air.  Only  the  croco 
dile  continued  to  keep  Balder  company. 

After  standing  a  few  moments,  he  once  more  threw 


THE  HOOPOE  AND  THE  CROCODILE.       203 

himself  down  on  the  moss  couch  beneath  the  palm- 
trees.  There  he  reclined  as  before,  supported  on  his 
elbow,  and  turned  the  diamond  ring  this  way  and  that 
on  his  finger  in  moody  preoccupation. 

Was   the   crocodile   asleep,   or   stealthily   watching 
him? 


XIX. 

BEFOEE    SUNDOWN. 

IF  Balder  Helwyse  had  been  in  a  vein  for  self- 
criticism  at  this  juncture,  the  review  might  prob 
ably  have  dissatisfied  him.  He  possessed  qualities 
which  make  men  great.  He  could  have  discharged 
august  offices,  for  he  saw  things  in  large  relations  and 
yet  minutely.  His  mind  and  courage  could  rise  to 
any  enterprise,  and  carry  it  with  ease  and  cheerfully. 
His  nature  was  even  more  receptive  than  active.  He 
had  force  of  thought  to  electrify  nations. 

But  his  was  the  old  story  of  the  star-gazer  walking 
into  the  well,  who  might  have  studied  the  stars  in  the 
well,  but  could  not  be  warned  of  the  well  by  the  stars. 
He  had  whistled  grand  chances  down  the  wind,  reach 
ing  after  what  was  superhuman.  His  hunger  had  been 
vast,  but  the  food  wherewith  he  had  filled  himself 
nourished  him  not,  and  suddenly  he  had  collapsed. 
His  first  actual  step  towards  realizing  his  lofty  aspira 
tions  had  landed  him  low  amongst  earth's  common 
criminals,  —  nor  had  the  harm  stopped  there.  That 
defiant  impulse  to  which  he  had  just  now  been  on 


BEFORE   SUNDOWN.  205 

the  point  of  yielding  had  not  dared  so  much  as  to 
have  shown  its  face  before  his  unvitiated  will.  He 
was  disorganized  and  at  the  mercy  of  events,  because 
without  law  sufficient  to  keep  and  guide  himself. 

Though  fallen,  there  was  in  him  somewhat  giant 
like,  perhaps  easier  to  see  now  than  before,  —  as  the 
ruin  seems  vaster  than  the  perfect  building.  The 
travail  of  a  soul  like  Balder's  must  issue  greatly, 
whether  for  good  or  ill.  He  could  not  remain  long 
inchoate,  but  the  elements  would  combine  to  make 
something  either  darker  or  fairer  than  had  been  be 
fore.  Meanwhile,  in  the  un crystallized  solution  the 
curious  analyst  might  detect  traits  bright  or  sinis 
ter,  ordinarily  invisible.  Here  were  softness,  impetu 
osity,  romantic  imagination,  and  tender  fire,  enough 
to  set  up  half  a  dozen  poets.  Again,  there  was  a 
fund  of  malignity,  coldness,  and  subtlety  adequate  to 
the  making  an  Tago.  Here,  too,  were  the  clear  scep 
tical  intellect,  the  fertility  and  versatile  power  of 
brain,  which  only  the  loftier  minds  of  the  world  have 
shown. 

Such  seemingly  incongruous  qualities  are,  in  the 
human  crucible,  so  mingled,  proportioned,  and  refined, 
as  to  form  a  seeming  simple  and  transparent  whole. 
We  may  feel  the  presence  of  a  spirit  weighty,  strong, 
and  deep,  without  understanding  the  how  and  why  of 
the  impression.  Only  at  critical  moments,  such  as 


206  IDOLATRY. 

this  in  Balder's  life,  can  we  point  out  the  joining 
lines. 

Balder's  present  attitude,  viewed  from  whatever  side, 
was  no  less  irksome  than  ignoble.  One  misfortune 
was  with  diabolic  ingenuity  dovetailed  into  another. 
It  was  bad  enough  to  have  killed  a  man ;  but  the 
victim  was  his  own  uncle,  and  the  father  —  at  least 
the  foster-father  —  of  Gnulemah.  And  she,  forsooth, 
must  idolize  the  murderer ;  and,  finally,  his  heart  must 
leap  forth  in  passionate  response  to  hers  at  the  mo 
ment —  partly  perhaps  for  the  reason  —  that  every 
honest  motive  forbade  it.  That  look  and  touch,  at 
the  molten  point  of  various  emotions,  had  welded 
their  spirits  together  at  once  and  lastingly. 

What  next  ?  For  Gnulemah  and  for  himself  what 
course  was  least  disastrous  ? — the  heroic  line,  —  to 
leave  her  without  a  word  ?  —  or,  concealing  what  he 
was,  should  he  stay  and  be  happy  in  her  arms  ?  Was 
there  a  third  alternative  ? 

"  To  part  would  be  *yet  worse  for  her  than  for  me. 
She  would  think  I  had  deceived  her.  And,  love 
apart,  how  can  I  leave  her  whose  only  protector  I 
have  killed?  That  deed  puts  me  in  his  place;  so 
love  and  duty  are  at  one  for  once.  Her  Balder,  —  her 
God,  —  she  calls  me.  She  is  my  universe  ;  the  depth 
and  limit  of  my  knowledge  and  power  are  gauged  by 
her.  Such  is  the  issue  of  my  aspirations ! " 


BEFORE   SUNDOWN.  207 

He  breathed  out  a  half-laugh,  ending  in  a  sigh. 
"  But  loving  her  is  sweeter  than  to  inform  creation !  " 
he  added,  aloud. 

The  crocodile  made  no  reply.  Balder  went  on,  finger 
ing  the  telltale  ring  and  talking  with  himself;  the 
earth,  meanwhile,  slowly  turning  her  warm  shoulder  to 
the  western  sun.  A  still  half-light  filled  the  conserva 
tory  as  with  a  clear  mellow  liquor,  and  the  rich  leaves 
and  blossoms  stood  breathless  with  delight.  The  pain 
fully  rigid  contraction  of  Balder's  features  was  softening 
away ;  he  was  coming  into  harmony  with  the  sensuous 
beauty  of  the  scene,  or  its  refined  voluptuousness  — 
serene,  unambitious,  content  with  time  and  careless  of 
eternity  —  interpreted  his  altered  temper. 

Be  happy  in  the  sunlight,  0  men  and  women !  Love 
and  kiss,  —  bow  down  and  worship  each  the  other ! 
Who  can  tell  of  another  joy  like  this  ?  Everlasting 
knows  it  not,  for  only  the  flavor  of  death  can  give  it 
perfection !  Save  for  the  foreshadow  of  midnight, 
noonday  were  not  beautiful.  But  when  night  comes, 
sink  ye  in  one  another's  arms,  and  sleep  !  Heaven  on 
earth  is  a  richer,  stronger  draught  than  Heaven ;  but 
pray  that  in  vouchsafing  death,  it  cheat  ye  not  of  an 
nihilation  ! 

He  had  forgotten  that  there  was  anything  ugly  in 
the  world,  or  that  the  blindest  cannot  always  escape 
the  Gorgon.  He  recked  not  the  risk  of  bringing  a  being 


208  IDOLATRY. 

such  as  Gnulemah  face  to  face  with  modern  life,  nor 
bethought  him  that  the  secret  in  his  heart  would  still 
be  nearer  it  than  love  could  come.  Neither,  during 
this  fortunate  moment,  did  fear  of  discovery  harass 
him. 

Oddly,  too,  it  was  not  to  domestic  comforts,  —  the 
love  of  wife,  children,  and  friends,  —  nor  yet  to  the 
absorbing  duties  of  a  profession,  that  Balder  looked  for 
a  shield  against  inward  trouble.  Hope  held  him  no 
more  than  fear ;  his  happiness  must  consist  in  freedom 
from  both.  He  thought  only  of  the  Gnulemah  of  to 
day,  —  unique,  beautiful,  untamed,  divinely  ignorant ; 
but  whose  heart  walked  before,  leading  the  giddy  mind 
by  paths  the  wisest  dared  not  tempt.  The  sounds  of 
her  voice,  the  shiftings  of  her  expression,  her  look,  her 
touch,  —  he  recalled  them  all.  He  centred  time  and 
space  in  her.  Change,  new  conditions,  succession  of 
events,  —  these  came  not  near  her.  Their  life  should 
know  neither  past  nor  future,  but  abide  a  constant 
Now,  —  until  the  end  ! 

His  lips  followed  his  thought  with  soundless  move 
ment.  Handsome  lips  they  were,  —  the  under,  full, 
but  sharply  defined  from  the  bulwark-chin  ;  the  upper, 
slender,  boldly  curved,  firm,  yet  sensitive  ;  —  the  mouth 
was  a  compendium  of  the  man's  physical  nature.  His 
eyes,  large  and  almost  as  dark  as  Gnulemah's,  albeit  far 
different  in  effect,  —  were  now  in-looking ;  the  pupils, 


BEFORE  SUNDOWN.  209 

always  extraordinarily  large  and  brilliant,  almost  filled 
the  space  between  the  eyelids.  His  hair  clung  round 
his  head  in  yellow  curls ;  the  dark  dense  eyebrows 
arched  at  ease.  With  velvet  doublet  and  well-moulded 
limbs,  in  the  enchanted  evening-glow,  he  looked  the 
ideal  fairy  prince,  —  noble,  wise,  and  valiant ;  conquer 
ing  fate  for  love's  sake.  They  were  brave  princes,  — 
they  of  old  time.  But  one  wonders  whether  the  giants 
and  enchanters,  nowadays,  are  not  stronger  and  subtler 
than  they  used  to  be  ! 


XX. 

BETWEEN  WAKING  AND   SLEEPING. 


was  an  old  woman  in  the  house  who  went 
I  by  the  name  of  Nurse  ;  her  duties  being  to  cook 
the  meals  and  preserve  a  sort  of  order  in  such  of  the 
rooms  as  were  occupied  by  the  family.  Since  the 
greater  part  of  the  house  was  uninhabited,  and  there 
were  only  two  mouths  to  feed  beside  her  own,  Nurse 
was  not  without  leisure  moments.  How  were  they 
employed  ? 

Not  in  gossiping,  for  she  had  no  cronies.  Not  in 
millinery  and  dressmaking,  for  there  were  no  admiring 
eyes  to  reward  such  labors.  Not  in  gadding,  for  she 
might  not  pass  the  imprisoning  wall.  Not  even  in  read 
ing,  perhaps  because  she  was  not  much  of  a  proficient 
in  that  art. 

The  truth  is  that  —  to  the  outward  eye  at  least  — 
she  was  uniformly  idle.  For  years  past  she  had  spent 
many  hours  of  each  night  in  the  corner  of  the  kitchen 
fireplace,  which  was  as  large,  roomy,  and  smoke-sea 
soned  as  any  in  story-books  or  mediaeval  halls.  Here 
sat  she,  winter  and  summer,  her  body  bent  forward 


BETWEEN   WAKING   AND   SLEEPING.  211 

over  her  knees,  her  disfigured  face  supported  on  one 
hand,  while  the  other  lay  across  her  breast.  This  was 
her  common  position,  and  she  seldom  moved  to  change 
it.  She  hummed  tunes  to  herself  sometimes, — not 
hymn  tunes,  —  but  never  was  heard  to  utter  an  articu 
late  wrord.  Often  you  might  have  thought  her  asleep, 
—  but  no  !  when  you  least  expected  it  a  shining  black 
eye  was  fixed  on  you ;  an  eye  which,  two  hundred 
years  ago,  would  have  convicted  its  owner  of  witch 
craft.  It  was  the  only  bright  thing  about  the  poor 
woman. 

Whenever  the  master  of  the  house  came  to  the 
kitchen,  Nurse's  witch-eye  followed  him  animal-like ; 
no  movement  of  his,  no  expression,  seemed  to  escape 
it.  A  curious  observer  might  sometimes  have  re 
marked  in  her,  during  the  few  moments  after  the 
man's  entrance,  a  muffled  agitation,  an  irregularity 
of  the  breath,  an  obscure  anxiety  and  suspense.  This, 
however,  would  soon  subside,  and  rarely  recur  during 
his  stay.  The  phenomenon  had  been  observable  daily 
for  nearly  a  score  of  years,  yet  nothing  had  meantime 
happened  to  explain  or  justify  it.  Had  an  original 
dread  —  groundless  or  not  —  prolonged  its  phantom 
existence  precisely  because  it  had  never  met  with 
justification  ? 

Often  for  weeks  at  a  time,  complete  silence  would 
obtain  between  master  and  Nurse.  He  would  enter 


212  IDOLATEY. 

and  ramble  hither  and  thither  the  ample  kitchen ;  eat 
what  had  been  prepared  for  him,  and  be  off  again  with 
out  a  word  or  glance  of  acknowledgment.  Or,  again, 
pacing  irregularly  to  and  fro  before  the  fireplace,  he 
would  pour  forth  long  disjointed  rhapsodies,  wild  spec 
ulations,  hopes,  and  misgivings ;  his  mood  changing 
from  solemn  to  gay,  and  round  through  gusty  passion 
to  morbid  gloom.  But  never  did  he  address  his  words 
to  Nurse  so  much  as  to  himself  or  to  some  imaginary 
interlocutor ;  and  she  for  her  part  never  answered  him 
a  syllable,  but  sat  in  silence  through  it  all.  Yet  was 
she  ever  alert  to  listen,  and  sometimes  the  subdued 
trembling  would  come  on  and  the  obstruction  of 
breath.  But  when  the  talker,  in  mid-excitement  of 
speech,  snatched  his  violin  and  drew  from  it  melodies 
weirdly  exquisite,  soothing  his  diseased  thoughts  and 
harmonizing  them,  Nurse  would  become  once  more 
composed ;  the  phantom  danger  was  again  put  off,  and 
the  violinist  would  presently  fall  into  silence,  —  some 
times  into  sleep.  But  still,  while  he  slept,  the  witch- 
eye  watched  him  ;  though  with  an  expression  of  yearn 
ing,  uncouth  intensity  which  seldom  ventured  forth 
while  he  was  awake. 

With  Gnulemah,  Nurse's  intercourse  became  yearly 
more  and  more  infrequent.  As  the  child  arose  to 
womanhood,  she  grew  apart  from  the  voiceless  creature 
who  had  cared  for  her  infancy.  It  was  not  Gnulemah's 


BETWEEN   WAKING   AND   SLEEPING.  213 

fault,  whose  heart  was  never  barren  of  loving  impulses. 
But  mother,  father,  were  words  whose  meaning  she  had 
never  been  taught ;  and  had  Nurse  comprehended  the 
unconscious  thirst  and  hunger  of  the  girl's  soul,  —  un 
conscious,  but  not  therefore  harmless,  —  she  might  have 
tried,  by  dint  of  affectionate  observances  and  companion 
ship,  to  represent  the  motherly  office  which  she  had  filled 
in  the  beginning.  But  this  was  not  to  be.  Some  hid 
den  agency  had  forced  the  two  ever  farther  asunder. 
Moreover,  Gnulemah  developed  rapidly,  while  Nurse 
underwent  a  process  of  gradual  congealment,  —  her 
wits  and  emotions  became  torpid.  Besides  this,  she 
was  the  victim  of  disfigurement,  physical  as  well  as 
spiritual;  while  Gnulemah,  both  naturally  and  by 
training,  was  sensitive  to  beauty  and  ugliness.  Other 
surface  causes  no  doubt  there  were,  in  addition  to  the 
hidden  one,  which  was  perhaps  the  most  potent  of  all. 

A  considerable  time  had  passed  since  Gnulemah's 
departure,  when  Balder  became  aware  that  he  was  not 
alone  in  the  conservatory.  His  thoughts  were  all  of 
Gnulemah,  and  he  looked  quickly  round  in  expectation 
of  seeing  her.  The  apparition  of  a  widely  different 
object  startled  him  to  his  feet. 

A  female  figure  stood  before  him,  wrapped  in  sad- 
colored  garments  of  anomalous  description,  her  head 
tied  up  in  dark  turban-like  folds  of  cloth.  A  lock  of 
rusty  black  hair  escaped  from  beneath  this  head-dress 


214  IDOLATRY. 

and  hung  down  beside  her  face.  She  might  once  have 
been  tall  and  erect,  but  her  form  now  sagged  to  the 
left,  losing  both  height  and  dignity.  Her  visage, 
seamed  and  furrowed  by  the  scar  of  some  terrible 
calamity,  had  lost  its  natural  contour.  The  left  eye 
was  extinguished,  but  the  right  remained,  —  the  only 
feature  in  its  original  state.  It  was  dark  and  bright, 
and  possessed,  by  very  virtue  of  its  disfigured  envi 
ronment,  a  repulsive  "kind  of  beauty.  Its  influence  was 
peculiar.  In  itself,  it  postulated  an  owner  in  the  prime 
of  life,  handsome  and  graceful.  But,  one's  attention 
wandering,  the  woman's  actual  ugliness  impressed  itself 
with  an  intensity  enhanced  by  the  imaginary  contrast. 

A  grotesque  analogy  was  thus  brought  to  light.  The 
woman  was  dual.  Her  right  side  lived;  the  left  — 
blind,  inert,  and  soulless  —  was  dragged  about  a  dead 
weight.  It  was  an  unnatural  emphasizing  of  the  spir 
itual-material  composition  of  mankind.  Observable, 
moreover,  was  her  strange  method  of  disguising  emo 
tion.  There  was  no  muscular  constraint;  she  simply 
turned  her  blank  left  side  to  the  spectator,  with  an 
effect  like  the  interposition  of  a  dead  wall! 

Such,  on  Balder's  perhaps  abnormally  excited  appre 
hension,  was  the  impression  the  nurse  produced.  She, 
on  her  part,  was  perhaps  more  disconcerted  than  he. 
Her  single  eye  settled  upon  him  in  a  panic  of  surprise. 
The  dressing  of  the  scene  gave  Balder  a  grisly  reminder 


BETWEEN  WAKING  AND   SLEEPING.  215 

of  the  first  moments  of  Gnulemali's  eloquent  astonish 
ment.  There  was  as  great  an  apparent  difference  be 
tween  the  superb  Egyptian  and  this  poor  creature,  as 
between  good  and  evil;  but  there  was  also  the  dis 
agreeable  suggestion  of  a  similar  kind  of  relationship. 
Gnulemah,  withered,  stifled,  and  degraded  by  some  un 
mentionable  curse,  might  have  become  a  thing  not 
unlike  this  woman. 

"  Have  we  met  before,  madam  ? "  asked  Helwyse, 
impelled  to  the  question  by  what  he  took  for  a  be 
wildered  recognition  in  her  eye. 

She  moved  her  lips,  but  made  no  audible  answer. 

"  I  am  Balder  Helwyse,"  he  added ;  for  he  had  made 
up  his  mind  that  all  concealments  (save  one)  were  un 
necessary. 

A  grotesque  quake  of  emotion  travelled  through  the 
woman's  body,  and  she  gave  utterance  to  a  harsh  inar 
ticulate  sound.  She  came  confusedly  forwards,  groping 
with  hands  outstretched.  Balder,  though  not  wont  to 
fail  in  courtesy  to  the  sorriest  hag,  could  scarce  forbear 
recoiling ;  especially  because  he  fancied  that  an  ex 
pression  of  affectionate  interest  was  struggling  to  get 
through  the  scarred  incrustation  of  the  woman's  nature. 

Perhaps  she  marked  his  inward  shrinking,  for  she 
checked  herself,  and,  slowly  turning  her  lifeless  screen, 
hid  behind  it.  It  was  impotent  deprecation  translated 
into  flesh, —  at  once  ludicrous  and  painful.  The  young 


216  IDOLATRY. 

man  found  so  much  difficulty  in  restraining  the  mani 
festation  of  his  distaste,  that  he  blushed  in  the  twi 
light  at  his  own  rudeness.  He  would  do  his  best  to 
redeem  himself. 

"  Doctor  Hiero  Glyphic  is  my  uncle/'  said  he,  mov 
ing  to  get  on  Nurse's  right  side,  and  speaking  in  his 
pleasantest  tone.  "  Is  he  at  home  ?  I  have  come  a 
long  way  to  see  him." 

Preoccupied  by  his  amiable  purpose  to  reassure  the 
•woman,  Helwyse  had  got  to  the  end  of  this  speech 
before  realizing  the  ghastly  mockery  involved  in  it. 
Nevertheless,  it  was  well.  Even  thus  falsely  and  boldly 
must  he  henceforth  speak  and  act.  By  a  happy  acci 
dent  he  had  opened  the  path,  and  must  see  to  it  that 
his  further  steps  did  not  retrograde. 

Still  Nurse  answered  not  a  word,  which  was  the  less 
surprising,  inasmuch  as  she  had  been  dumb  for  a  quar 
ter  of  a  century  past.  But  Balder,  supposing  her 
silence  to  proceed  from  stupidity  or  deafness,  repeated 
more  loudly  and  peremptorily, — 

"  Doctor  Glyphic,  —  is  he  here  ?  is  he  alive  ? " 

He  felt  a  morbid  curiosity  to  hear  what  reply  would 
be  made  to  the  question  whose  answer  only  he  could 
know.  But  he  was  puzzled  to  observe  that  it  appeared 
to  throw  Nurse  into  a  state  of  agitation  as  great  as 
though  she  had  herself  been  the  perpetrator  of  Balder's 
crime  !  She  stood  quaking  and  irresolute,  now  peeping 


BETWEEN   WAKING   AND   SLEEPING.  217 

for  a  moment  from  behind  her  screen,  then  dodging 
back  with  an  increase  of  panic. 

This  display  —  rendered  more  uncouth  by  its  voice- 
lessness  —  revolted  the  aesthetic  sensibilities  of  Hel- 
wyse.  Besides,  what  was  the  meaning  of  it  ?  Had  it 
actually  been  Davy  Jones  with  whom  he  had  striven 
on  the  midnight  sea  ?  and  had  his  adversary,  instead 
of  drowning,  spread  his  bat-wings  for  home,  and  left 
his  supposititious  murderer  to  disquiet  himself  in  vain  ? 
Verily,  a  practical  joke  worthy  its  author  ! 

This  conceit  revealed  others,  as  a  lightning-flash 
the  midnight  landscape.  Balder  was  encircled  by 
witchcraft,  —  had  been  ferried  by  a  real  Charon  to 
no  imaginary  Hades.  The  quaint  secluded  beauty  of 
circumstance  was  an  illusion,  soon  to  be  dispelled. 
Gnulemah  herself  —  miserable  thought  !  —  was  per 
haps  a  thing  of  evil ;  what  if  this  very  hag  were 
she  in  another  form  ?  Glancing  round  in  the  deep 
ening  twilight,  Balder  fancied  the  dark,  still  plants 
and  tropic  shrubs  assumed  demoniac  forms,  bending 
and  crowding  about  him.  The  old  witch  yonder  was 
muttering  some  infernal  spell ;  already  he  felt  numb 
ness  in  his  limbs,  dizziness  in  his  brain. 

The  devils  are  gathering  nearer.     A  heavy,  heated 

atmosphere  quivers  before  his  eyes,  or  else  the  witch 

and  her  unholy  crew  are  uniting  in  a  reeling  dance. 

Iii  vain  does  Balder  try  to  shut  his  eyes  and  escape 

10 


218  IDOLATRY. 

the  giddy  spectacle  ;  they  stare  widely  open  and  see 
things  supernatural.  Nor  can  he  ward  off  these  with 
his  hands,  which  are  rigid  before  him,  and  defy  his 
will.  The  devilish  jig  becomes  wilder,  and  careers 
through  the  air,  Balder  sweeping  with  it.  In  mid- 
whirl,  he  sees  the  crocodile,  —  cold,  motionless,  wait 
ing  with  long,  dry  jaws  —  for  what  ? 

A  cry  breaks  from  him.  With  a  wrench  that  strains 
his  heart  he  bursts  loose  from  the  devil's  bonds  that 
confine  his  limbs.  The  witch  has  vanished,  and  Hel- 
wyse  seems  to  himself  to  fall  headlong  from  a  vast 
height,  striking  the  earth  at  last  helpless  and  broken. 
"  Gnulemah  ! " 

Gasping  out  that  name,  he  becomes  insensible. 
Beneath  an  outside  of  respectable  composure  have 
turmoiled  the  tides  of  such  remorse  and  pain  as  only 
a  man  at  once  largely  and  finely  made  can  feel.  Added 
to  the  mental  excitement  carried  through  many  phases 
to  the  point  of  distraction,  have  been  bodily  exertion 
and  want  of  food  and  sleep.  The  apparition  of  un 
natural  ugliness,  of  behavior  strange  as  her  looks, 
coining  upon  him  in  this  untoward  condition,  needed 
not  the  heat  of  the  conservatory  and  stupefying  per 
fume  of  the  flowers  to  bring  on  the  brief  delirium  and 
final  unconsciousness.  As  he  lies  there  let  us  remem 
ber  that  his  last  word  threw  back  the  unworthy,  dark 
misgiving,  that  beauty  and  deformity,  good  and  bad, 
could  by  any  jugglery  become  convertible, 


BETWEEN   WAKING   AND   SLEEPING.  219 

As  a  mere  matter  of  fact,  Nurse  was  no  witch,  nor 
had  she,  of  her  own  will  and  knowledge,  done  Balder 
any  harm.  On  the  contrary,  she  was  already  at  work, 
with  trembling  hands  and  painfully  thumping  heart, 
to  relieve  his  sad  case.  She  wTas  touched  and  agitated 
to  a  singular  degree.  It  was  not  the  first  time  in  the 
patient's  life  that  she  had  tended  him.  The  reader 
has  guessed  her  secret,  —  that  she  had  known  Balder 
before  he  knew  himself,  and  cared  for  him  when  his 
only  cares  had  been  to  eat  and  sleep.  She  knew  her 
baby  through  his  manly  stature  and  mature  features, 
less  from  his  likeness  to  his  father  than  from  certain 
uneffaced  traces  of  infantine  form  and  expression.  She 
was  of  gypsy  blood,  and  had  looked  on  few  human 
faces  since  last  seeing  his.  He  did  not  recognize  her 
until  some  time  afterwards.  All  things  considered,  it 
was  -hardly  possible  he  should  do  so. 

It  was  curious  to  observe  how  awkwardly  she  now 
managed  emotions  that  had  once  flowed  but  too  read 
ily.  She  was  moved  by  impulses  which  she  had  long 
forgotten  how  to  interpret.  Her  only  outlet  for  ten 
derness  was  her  solitary  eye,  which  might  well  have 
given  way  under  the  strain  thus  put  upon  it. 

But  by  and  by  the  inward  heat  began  to  thaw  the 
stiff  outward  crust,  which  had  been  hardening  for  so 
many  years.  Glimpses  there  were  of  the  handy,  affec 
tionate,  sympathizing  woman,  emerging  from  fossil- 


220  IDOLATRY. 

ization.  Her  withered  heart  once  more  hungered  and 
thirsted,  and  the  strange  duality  tended  to  melt  back 
again  into  unity. 

Balder's  attack  at  length  yielded,  and  a  drowsy 
consciousness  returned,  memory  and  reason  being  still 
partly  in  abeyance.  His  heavy,  half-closed  eyes  rested 
on  darkness.  A  crooning  sound  was  in  his  ear, — 
a  nursery  lullaby,  wordless  but  soothing.  Where  was 
he  ?  Had  he  been  ill  ?  Was  he  in  his  cradle  at  home  ? 
Was  Salome  sitting  by  to  watch  him  and  give  him  his 
medicine  ?  Yes,  very  ill  he  was,  but  would  be  better 
in  the  morning ;  and  meanwhile  he  would  be  a  good 
boy,  and  not  cry  and  make  a  fuss  and  trouble  Salome. 

"  Nurse,  —  Sal !  —  I  say,  Sal !  " 

Salome  bent  over  him  as  of  old. 

"  Had  such  a  funny  dream,  Sal !  dreamt  I  was  grown 
up,  and  —  killed  a  man  !  What  makes  you  shake  so, 
Sal  ?  it  was  n't  true,  you  know  !  And  I  'm  going  to  be 
a  good  boy  and  go  to  sleep.  Good  night !  give  a  kiss 
from  me  —  to  —  my  —  little  —  " 

So  sinks  he  into  slumber,  profound  as  ever  wooed 
his  childhood ;  his  head  pillowed  in  Salome's  lap,  his 
funny  dream  forgotten. 


XXI. 

WE  PICK  UP  ANOTHER  THREAD. 

DARKNESS  and  silence  reigned  in  the  conserva 
tory  ;  the  group  of  the  sleeping  man  and  attend 
ant  woman  was  lost  in  the  warm  gloom,  and  scarcely  a 
motion  —  the  low  drawing  of  a  breath  —  told  of  their 
presence. 

A  great  gray  owl,  which  had  passed  the  daylight  in 
some  obscure  corner,  launched  darkling  forth  on  the 
air,  and  winged  hither  and  thither,  —  once  or  twice 
fanning  the  sleeper's  face  with  silent  pinions.  The 
crocodile  lazily  edged  off  the  stone,  plumped  quietly 
into  the  water,  and  clambered  up  the  hither  margin  of 
the  pool,  there  coming  to  another  long  pause.  A  snail, 
making  a  night-journey  across  the  floor,  found  in  its 
path  a  diamond,  sparkling  with  a  light  of  its  own.  The 
snail  extended  a  cool  cautious  tentacle,  —  recoiled  it 
fastidiously  and  shaped  a  new  course.  A  broad  petal 
from  a  tall  flowering-shrub  dropped  wavering  down, 
and  seemed  about  to  light  on  Balder's  forehead ;  but, 
swerving  at  the  last  moment,  came  to  rest  on  the  scaly 
head  of  the  crocodile.  The  night  waited  and  listened, 


222  IDOLATRY. 

as  though  for  something  to  happen,  —  for  some  one  to 
appear  !  Salome,  too,  was  waiting  for  some  one  ;  —  was 
it  for  the  dead  ? 

Meantime,  pictures  from  the  past  glimmered  through 
her  memory.  When,  in  our  magic  mirror,  we  saw  her 
struck  down  by  the  hand  of  her  lover,  she  was  far  from 
being  the  repulsive  object  she  is  now.  Indeed,  but 
for  that  chance  word  let  fall  yesterday,  about  her  hav 
ing  been  badly  burnt,  we  might  be  at  a  loss  to  justify 
our  recognition  of  her. 

After  Manetho's  rude  dismissal  of  her,  she  fled  —  not 
knowing  whither  better  —  to  Thor  Helwyse,  who  was 
living  widowed  in  his  Brooklyn  house,  with  his  infant 
son  and  daughter.  Because  she  had  been  Helen's  at 
tendant,  she  besought  Helen's  husband  to  give  her  a 
home.  She  was  in  sore  trouble,  but  said  no  more  than 
this ;  and  Thor,  suspecting  nothing  of  her  connection 
with  Manetho,  gladly  received  .  her  as  nurse  to  his  chil 
dren. 

But  past  sins  and  imprudences  would  find  out  Salome 
no  less  than  others.  At  the  critical  moment  for  her 
self  and  her  fortunes,  the  house  took  fire.  She  risked 
her  life  to  save  Thor's  daughter,  was  herself  burned 
past  recognition,  and  (one  misfortune  treading  on  an 
other's  heels)  balanced  on  death's  verge  for  a  month  or 
two.  She  got  well,  in  part ;  but  the  faculty  of  speech 
had  left  her,  and  beauty  of  face  arid  figure  was  forever 
gone. 


WE  PICK  UP   ANOTHEK   THREAD.  223 

In  her  manifold  wretchedness,  and  after  such  devo 
tion  shown,  it  was  not  in  Thor's  warm  heart  to  part 
with  her  ;  so,  losing  much,  she  gained  something.  She 
remained  with  her  benefactor,  whose  manly  courtesy 
ever  forbore  to  probe  the  secret  of  her  woman's  heart, 
over  which  as  over  her  face  she  always  wore  a  veil. 
The  world  saw  Salome  no  more.  She  sat  in  the  nur 
sery,  watching  year  by  year  the  dark-eyed  little  maiden 
playing  with  the  fair-haired  boy.  Broad-shouldered 
Thor  would  come  in,  with  his  grand,  kindly  face  and 
royal  beard ;  would  kiss  the  little  girl  and  tussle  with 
the  boy,  mightily  laughing  the  while  at  the  former's 
solicitude  for  her  playmate ;  would  throw  himself  on 
the  groaning  sofa,  and  exclaim  in  his  deep  voice,  — 

"  God  bless  their  dear  little  souls !  Why,  Nurse  ! 
when  did  a  brother  and  sister  ever  love  each  other  like 
that,  — eh?" 

Salome  probably  was  not  unhappy  then ;  indeed,  — 
whether  she  knew  it  or  not,  —  she  was  at  her  happiest. 
But  new  events  were  at  hand.  Thor,  growing  yearly 
more  restless,  at  length  resolved  to  sell  his  house  and 
go  to  Europe,  taking  with  him  Salome  and  both  the 
children.  Everything  was  ready,  down  to  the  packing 
of  Salome's  box.  A  day  or  two  before  the  sailing, 
Thor  went  to  New  Jersey,  to  bid  farewell  to  his  eccen 
tric  brother-in-law.  It  was  a  warm  summer  day,  and 
the  children  played  from  morning  till  night  in  the 


224       .  IDOLATRY. 

front  yard,  while  Nurse  sat  in  the  window  and  kept 
her  eye  on  them.  Her  thoughts,  perhaps,  travelled 
elsewhere. 

Since  her  misfortune  she  had,  no  doubt,  had  more 
opportunity  than  most  women  for  reflection  :  silence 
breeds  thought.  What  she  thought  about,  no  one 
knew ;  but  she  could  hardly  have  forgotten  Manetho. 
On  this  last  evening,  when  at  the  point  of  leaving 
America  forever,  it  would  have  been  strange  had  no 
memory  of  him  passed  through  her  mind. 

She  had  not  heard  his  name  in  the  last  four  years, 
and  she  knew  that  he  suspected  nothing  of  her  where 
abouts.  Had  he  ever  wished  to  see  her?  she  won 
dered  ;  and  thought,  "  He  would  not  know  me  if  he 
did  see  me!"  With  that  came  a  tumultuous  long 
ing  once  more  to  look  upon  him.  Too  late!  Why 
had  she  not  thought  of  this  before  ?  Now  must  her 
last  memory  of  him  be  still  as  when,  disfigured  by 
sudden  rage,  he  turned  upon  her  and  struck  her  on  the 
bosom.  There  was  the  scar  yet;  the  fire  had  spared 
it !  It  was  a  keepsake  which,  as  time  passed,  Salome 
strangely  learned  to  love  ! 

It  was  growing  dusk,  •—  time  for  the  children  to 
come  in.  They  were  sitting  deep  in  the  abundant 
grass,  weaving  necklaces  out  of  dandelion-stems.  Nurse 
leaned  out  of  window  and  beckoned  to  attract  their 
attention.  But  either  they  were  too  much  absorbed  to 


WE   PICK   UP    ANOTHER   TIIPtEAD.  225 

notice  her,  or  they  were  wilfully  blind ;  so  Nurse  rose 
to  go  out  and  fetch  them. 

Before  reaching  the  open  front  door,  she  stopped 
shoiyt  and  her  heart  seemed  to  turn  over.  A  tall  dark 
man  was  leaning  over  the  fence,  talking  with  the  little 
girl.  Nurse  shrank  within  the  shadow  of  the  door, 
and  thence  peeped  and  listened,  —  as  well  as  her  beat 
ing  pulses  would  let  her. 

"  I  know  where  fairy-land  is,"  says  the  man,  in  the 
soft,  engaging  tone  that  the  listener  so  well  remembers. 
"  Come  !  shall  we  go  together  and  visit  it  ? " 

"  He  come  too  ? "  asks  the  little  maiden,  nodding 
towards  the  boy,  who  is  portentously  busy  over  his 
dandelions. 

"  He  may  if  he  likes,"  the  man  answers  with  a  smile. 
"  But  we  must  make  haste,  or  fairy-land  will  be  shut 
up!" 

It  flashes  into  Salome's  head  what  this  portends. 
She  had  heard  this  man  vow  revenge  on  Thor  long  ago, 
and  she  now  sees  how  he  means  to  keep  his  oath.  He 
has  shrewdly  improved  the  opportunity  of  Thor's  ab 
sence,  and  has  come  intending  to  carry  off  either  his 
son  or  his  daughter.  Fortune,  it  .seems,  has  chosen  for 
him  the  dark-eyed  little  girl.  See  !  he  stoops  and  lifts 
her  gently  over  the  wall,  and  they  are  off  for  fairy 
land  ! 

Rush  out,  Salome  !  alarm  the  neighborhood  and  force 
10*  o 


226  IDOL  ATE  Y. 

the  kidnapper  to  give  up  his  booty !  After  Thor's  kind 
ness  to  you,  will  you  be  false  to  him  ?  Besides,  what 
motive  have  you  for  unfaithfulness  ?  Grant  that  you 
love  Manetho,  —  what  harm,  save  to  his  revengeful 
passion,  could  result  from  thwarting  him  ? 

Salome  acted  oddly  on  this  occasion,  —  it  would 
seem,  irrationally.  But  that  which  appears  to  the 
spectator  but  a  trivial  modification  may  have  vital 
weight  with  the  actor.  Had  Manetho  taken  Balder, 
for  example,  Salome  might  have  pursued  another  and 
more  intelligible  course  than  the  one  she  actually  took. 
She  hurried  out  of  the  door  and  caught  Manetho  by 
the  arm  before  he  was  twenty  paces  on  his  way.  He 
turned,  savage  but  frightened,  setting  down  the  little 
girl  but  not  letting  go  her  hand.  She  was  in  her  hap 
piest  humor,  and  informed  Nurse  that  she  was  to  be 
queen  of  fairy-land ! 

Nurse  lifted  the  veil  from  her  face  and  looked  stead 
fastly  at  Manetho  with  her  one  eye.  It  was  enough,  — 
he  saw  in  her  but  a  hideous  object,  —  would  never 
know  her  for  the  bright  girl  he  had  once  professed  to 
love.  Salome  gave  one  sob,  containing  more  of  wo 
manly  emotion  than  could  be  written  down  in  many 
words,  and  then  was  quiet  and  self-possessed.  Mane 
tho  did  not  offer  to  escape,  but  stood  on  his  guard; 
half  prepared,  however,  —  from  something  in  the  wo 
man's  manner,  —  to  find  her  a  confederate. 


WE   PICK  UP   ANOTHER   THREAD.  227 

"  S'e  come  too  ? "  chirped  the  unconscious  little 
maiden. 

But  Manetho's  attention  was  turned  to  some  words 
that  Salome  was  writing  in  a  little  blank-book  which 
she  always  carried  in  her  pocket.  She  offered  to  help 
him  carry  off  the  child,  on  condition  of  being  herself 
one  of  the  party  ! 

He  looked  narrowly  at  the  woman,  but  could  make 
nothing  by  his  scrutiny.  Was  it  love  for  the  child 
that  prompted  her  behavior  ?  No  ;  for  she  could  easily 
have  raised  the  neighborhood  against  him.  She  com 
pletely  puzzled  him,  and  she  would  give  no  explana 
tions.  What  if  he  should  accept  her  offer  ?  She  would 
be  an  advantage  as  well  as  an  inconvenience.  The 
child  would  have  the  care  to  which  it  had  been  accus 
tomed,  and  Manetho  would  thus  be  spared  much  em 
barrassment.  When  the  woman's  help  became  super 
fluous,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  give  her  the  slip. 

There  was  small  leisure  for  reflection.  An  agree 
ment  was  made,  —  on  Salome's  part,  with  a  secret 
sense  of  intense  triumph,  not  unmixed  with  fear  and 
pain.  She  caught  up  Master  Balder  and  his  dande 
lions,  kissed  and  hugged  him  violently,  and  locked  him 
into  the  nursery ;  where  he  was  found  some  hours 
afterwards  by  his  father,  in  a  state  of  great  hunger  and 
indignation.  But  the  little  dark-haired  maiden  was 
seen  no  more.  She  was  gone  to  her  kingdom  of  fairy- 


228  IDOLATRY. 

land,  and  Nurse  with  her.     Long  mourned  Balder  for 
his  vanished  playmate ! 

Salome  has  kept  her  secret  well.  And  now,  there 
she  sits,  her  long-lost  baby's  head  in  her  lap,  thinking 
of  old  times ;  and  the  longer  she  thinks,  the  more  she 
softens  and  expands.  Has  she  done  a  great  wrong  in 
her  life  ?  Surely  she  has  suffered  greatly,  and  in  a 
manner  that  might  well  wither  her  to  the  core.  But 
there  must  still  have  been  a  germ  of  life  in  the  shriv 
elled  seed,  which  this  night  —  memorable  in  her  exist 
ence  —  has  begun  to  quicken. 

By  and  by  come  a  few  tears,  with  a  struggle  at  first, 
then  more  easily.  Kind  darkness  lets  us  think  of 
Salome  bright  and  comely  as  in  the  old  days,  with  the 
added  grace  of  inward  beauty  wrought  by  sad  ex 
perience.  But,  in  truth,  she  is  marred  past  earthly 
recovery.  Nothing  removes  a  soul  so  far  from  hu 
man  sympathy  as  self-repression,  —  especially  for  any 
merely  human  end ! 

The  night  creeps  reluctantly  westward ;  the  gray 
owl  wings  back  to  his  shady  corner ;  the  adventurous 
snail,  half-way  up  the  palm-tree,  glues  himself  to  the 
bark  and  turns  in  for  a  nap.  The  crocodile  has  re 
sumed  his  old  position  on  the  rock  in  the  pool,  and  the 
flower  petal  floats  on  the  water.  Here  comes  the  bril 
liant  hoopoe  with  his  smart  crest  and  clear  chirrup, 
impatient  to  bid  Gnulernah  good  morning  !  All  is  as 


WE  PICK  UP  ANOTHER  THREAD.        229 

before,  save  that  the  group  beneath  the  palm-trees  has 
disappeared ! 

Balder  slept  late,  yet,  on  awakening,  he  thought  he 
must  be  dreaming  still.  He  could  not  distinguish  im 
agination  from  reality.  His  mind  had  temporarily  lost 
its  grasp,  his  will  its  authority.  Where  was  he  ?  Was 
it  years  or  hours  since  he  had  entered  Boston  harbor  ? 

Suddenly  rose  before  him  the  vision  of  the  deadly 
struggle  on  the  midnight  sea.  Round  this  central  point 
the  rest  crystallized  in  order.  His  heart  sank,  and  he 
sighed  most  heavily.  But  presently  he  rose  to  his 
elbow  and  stared  about  in  bewilderment.  Had  he  ever 
seen  this  room  before  ?  How  came  he  here  ? 

He  was  lying  on  a  carved  bedstead,  furnished  with 
sheets  of  fine  linen  and  a  counterpane  of  blue  embroi 
dered  satin ;  but  all  bearing  an  appearance  of  great  age. 
The  room  was  oval,  like  a  bird's-egg  halved  lengthwise ; 
the  smoothly  vaulted  ceiling  being  frescoed  with  a  crowd 
of  figures.  The  rich  and  costly  furniture  harmonized 
with  the  bedstead,  and  bore  the  same  marks  of  age.  The 
chairs  and  lounge  were  satin-covered;  the  sumptuous 
toilet-table  was  fitted  with  a  mirror  of  true  crystal ;  the 
arched  window  was  curtained  with  azure  satin  and  lace. 
It  was  a  chamber  fit  for  a  princess  of  the  old  regime, 
unaltered  since  its  fair  occupant  last  abode  in  it. 

Balder   now   examined    the    frescos   which   covered 


230  IDOLATRY. 

wall  and  ceiling.  The  subject  seemed  at  the  first 
glance  to  be  a  Last  Judgment,  or  something  of  that 
nature.  A  mingled  rush  of  forms  mounted  on  one  side 
to  the  bright  zenith,  and  thence  lapsed  confusedly 
down  the  opposite  descent.  The  dark  end  of  the  room 
presented  a  cloud  of  gloomily  fantastic  shapes,  swerved 
from  the  main  stream,  and  becoming  darker  and  more 
formless  the  farther  they  receded,  till  at  the  last  they 
were  lost  in  a  murky  shadow.  Not  entirely  lost,  how 
ever;  for  as  Balder  gazed  awfully  thitherward,  the 
shadow  seemed  to  resolve  itself  into  a  mass  of  inter 
twined  and  struggling  beings,  neither  animal  nor  hu 
man,  but  combining  the  more  unholy  traits  of  both. 

But  from  the  centre  of  the  upward  stream  shone 
forms  and  faces  of  angelic  beauty ;  yet,  on  looking 
more  narrowly,  Balder  discerned  in  each  one  some 
ghastly  peculiarity,  revealing  itself  just  when  enjoy 
ment  of  the  beauty  was  on  the  point  of  becoming  com 
plete.  Such  was  the  effect  that  the  most  angelic  forms 
were  translated  into  mocking  demons,  and  where  the 
light  seemed  brightest  there  was  the  spiritual  darkness 
most  profound. 

In  the  zenith  was  a  white  lustre  which  obliterated 
distinction  of  form  as  much  as  did  the  cloudy  obscurity 
at  the  end  of  the  room.  Now  the  design  seemed  about 
to  unfold  itself ;  then  again  it  eluded  the  gazer's  grasp. 
Suddenly  at  length  it  stood  revealed.  A  gigantic  face, 


WE  PICK  UP   ANOTHER   THREAD.  231 

with,  wide-floating  hair  and  beard,  looked  down  into 
Balder's  own.  Its  expression  was  of  infinite  malignity 
and  despair.  The  impersonation  of  all  that  is  wicked 
and  miserable,  its  place  was  at  the  top  of  Heaven ;  it 
was  moulded  of  those  aspiring  forms  of  light,  and  was 
the  goal  which  the  brightest  attained.  Moreover,  either 
by  some  ugly  coincidence  or  how  otherwise  he  could 
not  conceive,  this  countenance  of  supreme  evil  was  the 
very  reflex  of  Balder's,  —  a  portrait  minutely  true,  and, 
despite  its  satanic  expression,  growing  every  moment 
more  unmistakable. 

Was  this  accident,  or  the  contrivance  of  an  unknown 
and  unfathomable  malice  ?  Balder,  Lord  of  Heaven, 
instinct  with  the  essence  of  Hell !  A  grim  satire  on 
his  religious  speculations  !  But  what  satirist  had  been 
bitter  enough  so  to  forestall  the  years  ?  —  for  the  paint 
ing  must  have  been  designed  while  Balder  was  still  an 
infant. 

He  threw  himself  off  the  bed  and  stepped  to  the 
window,  and  saw  the  blue  sky  and  the  river  rhyming 
it.  The  breath  of  the  orchard  visited  him,  and  he  was 
greeted  by  the  green  grass  and  trees.  He  sighed  with 
relief.  There  had  been  three  mornings  since  his  re 
turn  to  America.  For  the  first  he  had  blessed  his 
own  senses  ;  the  second  had  looked  him  out  of  coun 
tenance  ;  but  the  third  came  with  a  benediction,  serene 
and  mighty,  such  as  Balder's  soul  had  not  hitherto 
been  open  to. 


IDOLATRY. 

"  This  is  more  than  a  plaster  heaven,"  said  he, 
looking  up  ;  "  but  I  fear,  Balder  Helwyse,  your  only 
heaven,  thus  far,  has  been  of  plaster.  You  have  seen 
this  morning  how  the  God  of  such  a  heaven  looks. 
How  about  the  God  of  this  larger  Heaven,  think  you  ?" 

Presently  he  turned  away  from  the  window ;  but 
he  had  quaffed  so  deeply  of  the  morning  glory,  that 
the  sinister  frescos  no  longer  depressed  him.  They 
were  ridiculously  unimportant,  —  nothing  more  than 
stains  on  the  wall,  in  fact.  Balder  could  not  tell  why 
he  felt  light-hearted.  It  was  solemn  light-heartedness, 
—  not  the  gayety  of  sensuous  spirits,  such  as  he  had 
experienced  heretofore.  It  had  little  to  do  with  physi 
cal  well-being,  for  the  young  man  was  still  faint  and 
dizzy,  and  weak  from  hunger.  Behold,  then,  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  a  carved  table  covered  with  a  damask 
cloth  and  crowned  with  an  abundant  breakfast ;  not 
an  ordinary  breakfast  of  coffee,  rolls,  omelette,  and 
beefsteak,  but  a  pastoral  breakfast,  —  fresh  milk,  bread 
and  honey  and  fruit  and  mellow  cheese,  —  such  food 
as  Adam  might  have  begun  the  day  with. 

In  face  of  the  yet  unsolved  mystery  of  his  own 
presence  in  the  room,  this  new  surprise  caused  Balder 
no  special  wonder.  Beyond  the  apparition  of  the  ugly 
dumb  woman,  he  recollected  nothing  of  the  previous 
evening's  experience.  Could  she  have  transported  him 
hither  ?  Well,  he  would  not  let  himself  be  disturbed 


WE   PICK   UP   ANOTHER   THREAD.  233 

by  apparent  miracles.  "  No  doubt  the  explanation  is 
simple/'  thought  he  ;  and  with  that  he  began  his  toilet. 

The  dressing-table  displayed  a  variety  of  dainty  arti 
cles  such  as  a  lady  might  be  supposed  to  use,  —  pearl- 
handled  brushes,  enamelled  powder-boxes,  slender  vases 
of  Meissen  porcelain,  a  fanciful  ring-stand;  from  the 
half-open  drawer  a  rich  glimpse  of  an  Indian  fan ;  a 
pair  of  delicate  kid  gloves,  which  only  a  woman's 
hands  could  have  worn,  were  thrown  carelessly  on  the 
table.  There  were  still  the  little  wrinkles  in  the  fin 
gers,  but  time  had  changed  the  pristine  white  to  dingy 
yellow. 

"  Whose  hands  could  have  worn  them  ?  whose  cham 
ber  was  this  ? "  mused  Balder.  "  Not  Gnulemah's ;  she 
knows  nothing  of  kid  gloves  and  powder!  and  these 
things  were  in  use  before  she  was  born.  Whose  face 
was  reflected  in  this  glass,  when  those  gloves  were 
thrown  down  here  ?  Was  that  her  marriage-bed  ? 
Were  children  born  in  it  ? " 

His  seizure  of  the  night  before  must  have  dulled  the 
edge  of  his  wit,  else  he  had  scarce  asked  questions 
which  chance  now  answered  for  him.  A  scratch  on 
one  corner  of  the  polished  mirror-surface  showed,  on 
closer  inspection,  a  name  and  a  date  written  with  a 
diamond.  Shading  off  the  light  with  his  hand,  Balder 
read,  "Helen,  1831." 

"  My   mother's  name ;  the  year  I  was  born.      My 


234  IDOLATRY. 

mother  !  "  he  repeated  softly,  taking  up  the  old  yellow 
gloves.  "  And  this  room  was  my  birthplace,  —  and 
my  little  sister's  !  My  mother's  things,  as  she  left 
them ;  for  father  once  told  me  that  he  never  entered 
her  room  after  she  was  buried.  She  died  here ;  and 
here  my  little  sister  and  I  began  to  live.  And  here  I 
am,  again,  —  really  the  same  little  helpless  innocent 
baby  who  cried  on  that  bed  so  long  ago.  Only  not 
innocent  now  !  Perhaps,  not  helpless,  either ! 

"  How  happy  that   barber  was   yesterday !   prattled 
about  being  born  again.     Cannot  I  be  born  again,  — 
to-day,  —  in  this  room  ?     Here  I  first  began,  and  have 
come  round  the  world  to  my  starting-point.     I  will 
begin  afresh  this  morning." 

And  heavily  as  he  was  weighted  in  the  new  race,  he 
would  not  be  disheartened.  Unuttered  resolves  bright 
ened  his  eyes  and  made  his  courage  high. 

Before  beginning  breakfast,  he  returned  to  the  win 
dow  and  drank  again  of  the  divine  blue  and  green. 
From  the  branch  of  a  near  tree  the  hoopoe  startled  him 
and  made  him  color.  Was  the  bird  an  emissary  from 
Gnulemah  ?  Balder's  mouth  drew  back,  and  his  chin 
and  eyes  strengthened,  as  though  some  part  of  his  un- 
uttered  resolves  were  recalled  by  the  thought  of  her. 

"When  he  was  ready  to  go,  he  turned  at  the  door,  and 
threw  a  parting  glance  round  the  dainty  old-fashioned 
chamber,  trying  to  gather  into  one  all  the  thoughts, 


.     WE   PICK  UP   ANOTHER   THREAD.  235 

memories,  and  resolves  connected  with  it.  He  had 
nearly  forgotten  the  frescos ;  the  victorious  sunshine 
had  reduced  the  figures,  satanic  or  beautiful,  to  a  mean 
ingless  agglomeration  of  wandering  lines  and  faded 
colors.  As  for  his  own  portrait,  it  was  no  longer  dis 
tinguishable  ! 


XXII. 

HEAET   AND   HEAD. 

ALDER  easily  found  his  way  to  the  conservatory, 
JL)  but  it  was  empty,  —  Gnulemah,  at  least,  was  not 
there !  The  tapestry  ^curtain  in  her  doorway  was 
pushed  aside,  the  door  itself  open.  Where  should  he 
seek  her  ? 

As  he  stood  in  doubt,  he  saw  lying  at  his  feet  a 
violet.  Picking  it  up,  he  saw  another  some  distance 
beyond  it,  and  still  another  on  the  threshold  which  he 
had  just  crossed.  They  were  Gnulemah's  footsteps,  — 
the  scent  of  this  sweet  quarry,  teaching  him  how  to 
follow  her.  So  he  followed,  nor  let  one  fragrant  trace 
escape  him  ;  and  presently  he  had  a  nosegay  of  them. 

She  was  out  of  doors,  then.  Truly,  on  such  a  day  as 
this,  where  else  should  she  be  ?  What  walls  could  pre 
sume  to  hold  her?  Her  loveliness  was  at  one  with 
nature's,  and  they  attracted  each  other.  To  the  solitary 
nymph,  her  mighty  playmate  had  been  all-sufficient ; 
for  she  saw  not  the  earth  and  sky  as  they  appear  now 
adays  to  mankind,  but  the  divine  meaning  which  they 
clothe.  Thus  she  could  converse  with  animals,  and 


HEART  AND   HEAD.  237 

could  read  plants  and  stones  more  profoundly  than 
botanist  or  geologist.  She  followed  inward  to  her  own 
fresh  and  beautiful  soul  the  sympathies  which  allied 
her  to  outward  things,  and  found  there  their  true 
prototypes. 

But  when  the  strong  magnetism  of  a  new  human 
spirit  began  to  act  upon  her,  these  fine  communings 
with  nature  suffered  disturbance.  In  such  thunder 
storms  as  the  meeting  of  the  electric  forces  must  engen 
der,  there  was  need  of  a  trust  worthier  safeguard  than 
simple  perception  of  a  divine  purpose  underlying  crea 
tion.  Only  the  personal  God  is  strong  enough  to  govern 
the  relations  of  soul  with  soul.  Barren  of  Eve,  Adam 
would  not  have  fallen ;  but  with  her,  he  will  one  day 
not  only  retrieve  his  fall,  but  climb  to  a  subliiner  height 
than  any  to  which  he  could  have  aspired  alone. 

Balder  strolled  out  on  the  wide  lawn.  Southwest- 
ward  wound  an  avenue  of  great  trees,  overshadowing 
the  narrow  footpath  that  stole  beneath  them.  To  the 
right,  round  the  northern  corner  of  the  house,  he 
could  see  far  off  the  white  tops  of  the  blossoming 
apple-trees ;  and  beyond,  the  river.  The  orchard  per 
fume  came  riding  on  the  untamed  breeze,  and  whis 
pered  a  fragrant  secret  in  the  young  man's  ear.  Or- 
chardward  he  pursued  his  search. 

As  he  went  on,  Gnulemah  grew  every  moment 
nearer.  At  length  he  caught  the  flutter  of  her  mantle 


238  IDOLATRY. 

amidst  the  foliage,  and  presently  saw  her  on  the  brink 
of  the  precipice,  looking  out  across  the  broad  blue 
river.  Thus  had  he,  through  his  glass,  darkly,  seen 
her  stand  the  day  before.  Were  the  crossing  a  river 
and  the  flight  of  a  day  all  that  divided  his  past  life 
from  what  he  thought  awaited  him  now ! 

While  yet  at  a  distance,  he  called  to  her,  —  not  from 
impatience,  but  because  he  stood  in  awe  of  the  meet 
ing,  and  wanted  the  first  moments  over.  His  voice 
touched  Gnulemah  like  a  beloved  hand,  and  turned  her 
towards  him.  Her  face,  which  had  not  learned  to  be 
the  mask  of  emotion,  but  was  instead  the  full  and 
immediate  index  thereof,  brightened  with  joy;  and  .as 
lie  came  near,  the  joy  increased.  Yet  a  seriousness, 
deep  down  in  her  eyes,  marked  the  shadow  of  a  night 
and  the  dawn  of  another  day.  A  spiritual  chemistry 
had  been  working  in  her. 

She  did  not  move  forward  to  meet  him,  but  stood 
delighting  in  the  sense  of  his  ever-growing  nearness. 
When  at  length  he  stood  close  before  her,  she  drew  a 
long,  pleasant  breath  and  said, — 

"A  beautiful  morning !" 

This  was  no  commonplace  greeting,  for  it  was  not 
made  in  a  commonplace  manner.  It  said  that  his 
coming  had  consummated  the  else  imperfect  beauty 
of  nature,  and  won  its  expression  from  Gnulemah's 
lips.  The  commonplace  wondered  to  find  itself  trans 
muted  into  a  compliment  of  fine  gold ! 


HEART   AND   HEAD.  239 

Gnulemali's  attire  to-day  was  more  Diana-like  than 
yesterday's,  and  looked  as  appropriate  to  her  as  leaves 
to  trees  or  clouds  to  the  sky.  Her  dress,  indeed,  was 
not  so  much  a  conventional  appendage  as  a  living,  sen 
sitive  part  of  her,  which  might  be  supposed  to  change 
its  color  and  style  in  sympathy  with  her  shifting 
moods  and  surroundings,  yet  never  losing  certain  dis 
tinctive  traits  which  had  their  foundation  in  her  indi 
vidual  nature. 

"  A  beautiful  morning  ! "  returned  Balder,  taking  her 
hand.  "  Were  you  expecting  me  ? " 

"  I  feared  you  might  not  show  yourself  to  me  again," 
she  answered,  with  sudden  tears  twinkling  on  her  eye 
lashes.  She  seemed  more  tenderly  human  and  ap 
proachable  to-day  than  heretofore.  Had  she  found  her 
mountain-height  of  unmated  solitude  untenable  ?  — 
found  in  herself  a  yielding  woman,  and  in  Balder  the 
strength  that  is  a  man  ?  This  descent,  which  was  a 
sweet  ascent,  made  her  endlessly  more  lovable. 

"  I  come  here  always  when  I  feel  lonely,"  continued 
she.  "  If  it  had  not  been  for  this  place,  with  its  great 
outlook,  I  should  often  have  been  too  lonely  to  stay  in 
the  world." 

"  We  all  need  an  outlook  to  a  larger  world,  Gnule- 
mah." 

"  Besides,  you  came  to  me  from  the  other  side ! "  said 
she,  glancing  in  his  face. 


240  IDOLATRY. 

"  Did  you  see  me  there  ? "  Balder  was  on  the  point 
of  asking ;  but  he  was  wise  enough  to  refrain.  If  he 
could  believe  it  true,  let  him  not  tempt  his  happiness ; 
if  faith  were  weak,  why  build  a  barrier  against  it  ? 
So  he  kept  silence. 

"  You  found  my  violets  ! "  whispered  Gnulemah,  with 
a  shy  smile.  "  You  understand  all  I  do  and  am  ;  it  is 
happiness  to  be  with  you." 

They  sat  down  by  mutual  consent  beneath  a  crooked 
old  apple-tree,  which  yet  blossomed  as  pure  and  fresh 
as  did  the  youngest  in  the  orchard.  From  beneath  this 
white  and  perfumed  tent  was  a  view  of  the  distant 
city. 

Gnulemah  could  not  be  called  talkative,  yet  in  giv 
ing  her  thoughts  expression  she  outdid  vocabularies. 
Many  fine  muscles  there  were  around  her  eyes,  at  the 
corners  of  her  mouth,  and  especially  in  the  upper  lip, 
—  whose  subtile  curvings  and  contractions  spoke  vol 
umes  of  question,  appeal,  observation.  Her  form  by 
its  endless  shiftings  uttered  delicate  phrases  of  pleas 
ure,  surprise,  or  love ;  her  hands  and  fingers  were  ora 
tors,  and  eloquent  were  the  curlings  and  tappings  of  her 
Arab  feet. 

This  kind  of  language  would  be  blank  to  one  used 

o       o 

rather  to  hear  words  than  to  feel  them  ;  but  Balder,  in 
his  present  exalted  mood,  delighted  in  it.  Was  there 
any  enjoyment  more  refined  than  to  see  his  thought, 


HEART   AND   HEAD.  241 

before  lie  bad  given  it  breath,  lighten  in  the  eyes  of 
this  daughter  of  fire  ?  and  with  his  own  eyes  to  catch 
the  first  pure  glimmer  of  her  yet  unborn  fancies  ?  A 
language  genial  of  intimacy,  for  the  talkers  must  feel 
in  order  to  utterance,  —  must  meet  each  other,  from 
the  heart  outward,  at  every  point.  The  human  form  is 
made  of  meanings.  It  is  the  full  thought  of  its  Creator, 
comprising  all  other  thoughts.  Is  it  blind  chance  of 
lifeless  expediency  that  moulds  the  curves  of  woman's 
bosom,  builds  up  man's  forehead  like  a  citadel,  and  sets 
his  head  on  his  shoulders  ?  Is  beauty  beautiful,  or  are 
we  cozened  by  congenial  ugliness  ?  But  Balder's  phil 
osophic  scepticism  should  never  have  braved  a  test 
like  Gnulemah  ! 

Except  music,  painting,  sculpture,  —  all  the  arts  and 
the  inspiration  of  them,  • —  waited  on  the  nib  of  the  pen, 
such  talk  as  passed  between  these  two  could  not  be 
written.  Some  things  —  and  those  not  the  least  pro 
found  and  admirable  of  life  —  transcend  the  cunnin^ 

o 

of  man  to  interpret  them,  unless  to  an  apprehension  as 
fine  as  they !  We  are  fain  to  content  ourselves  with 
the  husks.  » 

"  It  must  be  happy  there  ! "  said  Gnulemah,  looking 
cityward.  "  So  many  Balders  and  Gnulemahs  ! " 

"  Why  happy  ?  "  asked  the  man  of  the  world,  with  a 
faint  smile. 

"  We  are  only  two,  and  have  known  each  other  to- 
11  P 


242  IDOLATRY. 

day  and  yesterday.  But  they,  you  said,  are  as  many  as 
the  stars,  and  have  been  together  many  yesterdays." 

Such  was  the  woman's  unclinched  argument,  leaving 
her  listener  to  draw  the  inference.  He  would  not  fore 
stall  her  enlightenment  from  the  grim  page  of  his  own 
experience.  But  do  not  many  pure  and  loving  souls 
pass  through  the  world  without  once  noticing  how  bad 
most  of  the  roads  are,  and  how  vexed  the  climates  ? 
So  might  not  the  earthly  heaven  of  Gnulemah's  imagi 
nation  tenderly  blind  her  to  the  unheavenly  earth  of 
Balder's  knowledge  ? 

Through  his  abstraction  Balder  felt  on  his  hand  a 
touch  soft  as  the  flowing  of  a  breath,  yet  pregnant  of 
indefinite  apprehension.  When  two  clouds  meet,  there 
is  a  hush  and  calm  ;  but  the  first  seeming-trifling  light 
ning-flash  brings  on  the  storm  whereby  earth's  face  is 
altered.  So  Balder,  full-charged  as  the  thunder-cloud, 
awaited  fearfully  the  first  vivid  word  which  should 
light  the  way  for  those  he  had  resolved  to  speak. 

"  I  see  you  with  my  open  eyes,  Balder,  and  touch 
you  and  hear  you.  Is  this  the  end  I  thought  would 
come  ?  Balder,  are  you  greatest  ?  "  With  full  trust 
she  appealed  to  him  to  testify  concerning  himself. 
This  was  the  seriousness  he  had  marked  beneath  the 
smile. 

"  Are  you  content  it  should  be  so  ? " 

She  plucked  a  blade  of  grass  and  tied  it  in  a  knot, 


HEART   AND   HEAD.  243 

and  began,  drawing  a  trembling  breath  between  each 
few  words,  — 

"  0  Balder,  —  if  I  must  kneel  to  you  as  to  the  last 
and  greatest  of  all,  —  if  there  is  nothing  too  holy  to  be 
seen  and  touched,  —  if  there  is  no  Presence  too  sublime 
for  me  to  comprehend  —  " 

"  What  then  ?  "  asked  he,  meeting  her  troubled  look 
with  a  strong,  cheerful  glance. 

"  Then  the  world  is  less  beautiful  than  I  thought  it ; 
the  sun  is  less  bright,  and  I  am  no  more  pleasing  to 
myself."  Tears  began  to  flow  down  her  noble  cheeks  ; 
but  Balder's  eyes  grew  brighter,  seeing  which,  Gnu- 
lemah  was  encouraged  to  continue. 

"  How  could  I  be  happy  ?  for  either  must  I  draw 
myself  apart  from  you  —  0  Balder  !  —  or  else  live  as 
your  equal,  and  so  degrade  you  ;  for  I  am  not  a 
goddess  ! " 

"  Then  there  are  no  goddesses  on  earth,  —  nor  gods  ! 
Gnulemah,  you  need  not  shrink  from  me  for  that." 

The  beautiful  woman  smiled  through  her  sparkling 
eyelashes.  She  could  love  and  reverence  the  man  who, 
as  a  deity,  bewildered  and  disappointed  her.  But  was 
the  intuition  therefore  false  which  had  revealed  to 
her  the  grand  conception  of  a  supreme,  eternal  God  ? 

They  sat  silent  for  a  while,  and  neither  looked  in 
the  other's  face.  They  had  struck  a  sacred  chord,  and 
the  sweet,  powerful  sound  thrilled  Balder  no  less  than 


244  IDOLATRY. 

Gnulemah.  But  presently  he  looked  up ;  his  cheeks 
warmed,  and  his  heart  swelled  out.  He  was  about  to 
put  in  jeopardy  his  most  immediate  jewel,  and  the 
very  greatness  of  the  risk  gave  him  courage.  Not  to 
the  world,  that  could  not  judge  him  righteously,  would 
he  confess  his  crime,  —  but  to  the  woman  he  loved  and 
who  loved  him.  Her  verdict  could  not  fail  to  be  just 
and  true. 

Could  a  woman's  judgment  of  her  lover  be  impar 
tial  ?  Yes,  if  her  instincts  be  pure  and  harmonious, 
and  her  worldly  knowledge  that  of  a  child.  Her  dis 
crimination  between  right  and  wrong  would  be  at 
once  accurate  and  involuntary,  like  the  test  of  poison. 
Love  for  the  criminal  would  but  sharpen  her  intuition. 
The  sentence  would  not  be  spoken,  but  would  be  read 
able  in  eyes  untainted  alike  by  prejudice  or  sophistry. 

Gnulemah  was  thus  made  the  touchstone  of  Balder's 
morality.  He  stood  ready  to  abide  by  her  decision. 
Her  understanding  of  the  case  should  first  be  made 
full ;  then,  if  condemned  by  her  look,  he  would  pub 
lish  his  crime  to  the  world,  and  suffer  its  penalty. 
But  should  her  eyes  absolve  him,  then  was  crime  an 
illusion,  evil  but  undeveloped  good,  the  stain  of  blood 
a  prejudice,  and  Cain  no  outcast,  but  the  venerable 
forefather  of  true  freedom. 

Unsearchable  is  the  heart  of  man.  Balder  had 
looked  forward  to  condemnation  with  a  wrholesome 


HEART  AND  HEAD.  245 

solemnity  which  cheered  while  it  chastened  him.  But 
the  thought  of  acquittal,  arid  at  Gnulemah's  hands, 
appalled  him.  The  implicit  consequences  to  human 
ity  seemed  more  formidable  than  the  worst  which  con 
demnation  could  bring  upon  himself.  So  much  had 
he  lately  changed  his  point  of  view,  that  only  the  fear 
of  seeing  his  former  creed  confirmed  could  have  now 
availed  to  stifle  his  confession. 

But  that  fear  did  not  much  disquiet  him  ;  he  trusted 
too  deeply  in  his  judge  to  believe  that  she  would  jus 
tify  it.  In  short,  Gnulemah  was  in  his  opinion  right- 
minded,  exactly  in  proportion  as  she  should  convict 
him  of  being  in  the  wrong.  Balder  resigned  the  helm 
of  his  vessel,  laden  as  she  was  with  the  fruits  of  years 
of  thought  and  speculation,  at  the  critical  moment  of 
her  voyage,  —  resigned  her  to  the  guidance  of  a  wo 
man's  unreasoning  intuition.  He  might  almost  as  well 
have  averred  that  the  highest  reach  of  intellect  is  to 
a  perception  of  the  better  worth  and  wisdom  of  an  un 
learned  heart. 


XXIII. 

BALDEE  TELLS  AN  UOTEUTH. 

BY  way  of  enheartening  himself  for  what  he  was 
to  do,  Balder  kissed  the  posy  of  Gnulemah's 
fragrant  footsteps.  He  kept  his  eyes  down,  lest  she 
should  see  something  in  them  to  distract  her  attention 
from  his  story.  He  must  go  artfully  to  work,  —  gain 
her  assent  to  the  abstract  principles  before  marshal 
ling  them  against  himself. 

Meanwhile  Gnulemah  had  picked  up  a  gold  beetle, 
and  was  examining  it  with  a  certain  grave  interest. 

"  I  never  told  you  how  I  came  by  this  ring  of  Hie- 
ro's.  It  was  the  night  before  I  first  saw  you,  Gnule 
mah." 

"  The  ring  guided  you  to  me  !  "  said  she,  glancing  at 
his  downcast  visage. 

"  Perhaps  it  did  ! "  he  muttered,  struck  by  the  ingen 
ious  superstition ;  and  he  eyed  the  keen  diamond  half 
suspiciously.  How  fiercely  the  little  serpents  were 
struggling  for  it !  "  But  Hiero  —  he  has  lost  it,  and 
you  will  see  him  no  more  ! " 

"  You  are  with  me  ! "  returns  she,  shining  out  at 


BALDER  TELLS  AN  UNTRUTH.         247 

him  from  beneath  her  level  brows.     What  should  she 
know  of  death  and  parting  ? 

Balder  still  forbore  to  raise  his  face.  Gnulemah  was 
in  a  frolicsome  humor,  the  reaction  of  her  foregoing 
solemnity.  But  Balder,  who  deemed  this  hour  the 
gravest  of  his  life,  was  taken  aback  by  her  unseason 
able  gayety.  Casting  about  for  means  to  sober  her,  — 
an  ungracious  thing  for  a  lover  to  do!  —  he  hit  upon 
the  gold  beetle. 

"  Dead  ;  the  poor  little  beetle  !  Do  you  know  what 
death  is,  Gnulemah  ? " 

"  It.  is  what  makes  life.     The  sun  dies  every  night, 
to  get  life  for  the  morning.     And  trees  die  when  cold 
comes,    so  as  to  smile  out  in  green  leaves  again,  - 
greener  than  if  there  had  been   no  death.     So  it  is 
with  all  things." 

"  Not  with  everything,"  said  Balder,  taking  her  liglit- 
heartedness  very  gravely.  "  That  gold  beetle  in  your 
hand  is  dead,  and  wiU  never  live  or  move  again." 

But  at  that  Gnulemah  smiled;  and  bringing  her 
hand,  with  the  beetle  in  it,  near  her  perfect  lips,  she 
lent  it  a  full  warm  breath,  —  enough  to  have  enliv 
ened  an  Egyptian  scarabseus,  —  and  behold  !  the  beetle 
spread  its  wings  and  whizzed  away.  Before  Balder 
could  recover  from  this  unexpected  refutation,  the 
lovely  witch  followed  up  her  advantage. 

"  You  thought,  perhaps,  that  Hiero  was  as  dead  as 


248  IDOLATRY. 

the  little  beetle ;  but  lie  lives  more  beautifully  in 
you  ! " 

He  looked  startled  up,  his  large  eyes  glittering 
blackly  in  the  paleness  of  his  face.  Gnulemah,  with 
the  serenity  of  a  victorious  disputant  willing  to  make 
allowances,  continued, — 

"  It  may  be  different  in  the  outside  world  from  which 
you  come ;  but  here  death  ends  nothing,  but  makes  life 
new  and  strong.'* 

After  a  silence  of  some  duration,  poor  Balder  re 
newed  his  attack  from  another  quarter. 

"What  would  you  think  of  one  who  put  to  death 
a  creature  you  loved  ? " 

She  smiled,  and  shook  her  glowing  pendants. 

"  Only  God  puts  to  death  ;  and  no  one  would  hurt  a 
thing  I  love  ! " 

"  What  should  you  think  of  one  who  put  to  death  a 
man?" 

Gnulemah  looked  for  a  moment  perplexed  and  indig 
nant.  Then,  to  Balder's  great  discomfiture,  she  laughed 
like  a  bird-chorus. 

"  Why  do  you  imagine  what  cannot  be  ?  Would  you 
and  Hiero  kill  each  other  ?  The  gray  owl  kills  lit 
tle  mice,  but  that  is  to  eat  them.  Would  you  eat 
Hiero  —  " 

"  Don't  laugh,  Gnulemah  ! "  besought  he.  "  I  should 
kill  him,  not  as  animals  kill  one  another,  but  from  rage 
and  hatred." 


BALDER   TELLS  AN  UNTRUTH.  249 

"  Hatred  ! "  repeated  Gnulemah,  dislikingly ;  "  hatred, 
—  what  is  it  ?  " 

"A  passion  of  men's  hearts,  —  the  wish  that  evil 
may  befall  others.  When  the  hatred  is  bitter  enough, 
and  the  opportunity  fair,  they  kill !  " 

Gnulemah  shuddered  slightly  and  looked  sad.  Then 
she  leaned  towards  Balder  and  touched  his  shoulder 
persuasively. 

"  Never  think  of  such  things,  or  talk  of  them  !  Could 
you  hate  any  one,  Balder  ?  or  kill  him  if  you  did  ? " 

With  that  glorious  presence  so  near  him,  —  her  voice 
so  close  to  his  ear,  —  how  could  he  answer  her  ?  His 
heart  awoke,  and  beat  and  drove  the  tingling  blood 
tumultuously  forth  to  the  remotest  veins.  She  saw  the 
flush,  and  caught  the  passionate  brilliancy  of  his  eyes. 
Happy  and  afraid,  she  drew  back,  saying  in  haste,  — 

"  You  have  not  told  me  yet  about  the  ring ! " 

That  was  not  wisely  said  !  Balder  checked  himself 
with  a  sudden,  strong  hand,  and  held  still,  —  his  brows 
lowered  down  and  his  lips  settled  together,  —  until  his 
pulses  were  quiet  and  his  cheeks  once  more  pale. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  he  said  ;  "  but  to  understand,  you 
must  first  hear  some  other  things."  He  hesitated,  face 
to  face  with  an  analysis  of  murder.  The  position  was 
at  once  stimulating  and  appalling.  To  dissect  and 
reduce  to  its  elements  that  grisly  murder-devil  which 
had  once  possessed  his  own  soul,  and  whose  writhings 
11* 


250  IDOLATRY. 

beneath  the  scalpel  he  would  therefore  feel  as  his  own, 
—  here  loomed  a  prospect  large  and  terrible  !  Never 
theless,  Balder  took  up  the  knife. 

The  white  petal  of  an  apple-blossom,  parting  from 
its  calyx,  came  floating  earthwards;  but  a  breeze 
caught  it  and  wafted  it  aloft.  It  sank  again,  and  was 
again  arrested  and  borne  skywards.  Finally  it  disap 
peared  over  the  cliff-edge. 

"  The  weight  that  made  it  fall  is  of  the  earth,"  said 
Balder  (both  he  and  Gnulemah  had  been  watching  the 
petal's  course).  "The  breeze  that  buoyed  it  up  was 
from  heaven,  and  so  it  is  with  man.  Were  there  no 
heavenly  support,  he  would  fall  at  once,  but  whether 
or  not,  he  always  tends  to  fall." 

Gnulemah  objected,  "  It  loves  the  air  better  than  the 
earth!" 

"When  man  begins  to  fall,  he  becomes  mad,  and 
thinks  he  is  not  falling,  but  that  earth  is  heaven,  to 
which  he  is  rising.  But  since  earth  is  not  like  heaven, 
infinite,  he  does  not  wish  others  to  enjoy  it,  lest  his 
own  pleasure  be  marred." 

"  How  can  that  be  ? "  said  the  unwilling  Gnulemah. 
"What  can  make  men  so  happy  on  earth  as  other 
men  ? " 

"  Each  wants  all  power  for  himself,"  rejoined  Balder, 
his  voice  growing  stern  as  he  pursued  his  theme. 
"They  want  to  hurl  their  fellows  out  of  the  world, 


BALDER  TELLS   AN  UNTRUTH.  251 

even  to  annihilation.  Every  moment  this  hatred  is  let 
grow  in  the  heart's  garden,  it  spreads  and  strengthens, 
till  it  gains  dominion  and  makes  men  slaves,  and  mad 
der  than  before.  Each  will  be  above  his  rival,  —  his 
enemy !  he  will  be  absolute  master  over  him.  And 
from  that  resolve  is  born  murder ! " 

"  Why  do  you  tell  Gnulemah  this  ? "  she  asked,  lift 
ing  her  head  like  a  majestic  serpent.  But  she  could 
not  stop  him  now.  His  voice,  measured  at  first,  was 
now  Mriven  by  emotion. 

"  Murder  comes  next ;  and  many  a  man,  had  fear 
or  impotence  not  withheld  him,  would  have  done 
murder  a  thousand  times.  But  sometimes  the  demon 
leaps  up  and  masters  impotence  and  fear.  The  man  is 
drunk  with  immeasurable  selfishness,  —  greater  than 
the  universe  can  satisfy ;  which  would  fain  make  one 
victim  after  another,  till  all  the  human  race  should  be 
destroyed;  and  then  would  it  turn  against  Heaven 
and  God.  Save  for  man's  mortal  frailty,  the  popu 
lation  of  the  world  would  ever  and  anon  be  swept 
away  by  some  giant  murderer. 

"  Wickedness  grows  faster,  the  wickeder  it  is ;  he 
who  has  been  wicked  once  will  easily  be  so  again,  — 
the  more  easily  as  his  crime  was  great.  Even  though 
through  all  his  mortal  life  he  sin  no  more,  yet  his  drift 
is  thitherward  !  Only  the  air  of  Heaven,  breathing 
through  his  soul  after  death  can  make  him  pure." 


252  IDOLATRY. 

Balder  was  speaking  out  all  the  gloom  and  terror 
which  had  been  silently  gathering  within  him  since  his 
fatal  night.  As  he  spoke,  his  mind  expanded,  and  per 
ceived  things  before  unknown.  As  the  reasons  for 
condemnation  multiplied,  he  did  but  push  on  the 
harder,  striking  at  each  tender  spot  in  his  own  ar 
mor.  And  as  the  day  turned  fatally  against  him,  his 
face  looked  great  and  heroic,  and  his  voice  sounded 
almost  triumphant. 

Thus  far,  he  had  only  generalized ;  now,  he  was 
come  to  his  own  plight.  On  several  points  he  had 
been  painfully  in  doubt :  whether  he  had  done  the 
deed  in  self-defence  ;  whether  he  had  meant  to  do  it ; 
whether  it  had  not  been  a  blind,  mad  accident,  since 
swollen  by  fevered  imagination  into  the  likeness  of 
wilful  crime.  But  against  such  doubts  arrayed  itself 
the  ineffaceable  memory  of  that  wild  joy  which  had 
filled  his  soul,  when  he  had  felt  his  enemy  in  his 
power !  Had  the  man  survived,  Balder  might  still 
have  doubted ;  being  dead,  doubts  were  but  cowardly 
sophistry. 

But  during  the  brief  pause  he  made,  came  a  back 
ward  recoil  of  that  impulse  which  had  swept  him  on. 
All  at  once  he  was  cold,  and  wavered.  Gnulemah 
was  sitting  with  her  elbow  on  her  knee,  her  strange 
eyes  fixed  upon  him.  Had  he  duly  considered  what 
effect  all  this  might  have  on  her  ?  In  aiming  at  his 


BALDER   TELLS  AN  UNTRUTH.  253 

own  life,  might  not  the  sword  pass  also  through 
hers  ?  Abruptly  to  behold  sin,  —  to  find  in  the  first 
man  she  had  learnt  to  know,  the  sinner,  —  to  be  left 
with  this  burden  on  her  untried  soul,  —  might  this 
not  ruin  more  than  her  earthly  happiness  ?  Did  she 
still  love  him,  such  love  could  end  only  in  misery ; 
should  she  hate  him  who  of  all  men  Avas  bound  to 
protect  her  defencelessness,  —  that  were  misery  in 
deed  ! 

This  misgiving,  arresting  his  hand  at  the  instant  of 
delivering  the  final  blow,  almost  discouraged  the  much- 
tried  man.  He  glanced  sullenly  toward  the  edge  of 
the  cliff,  only  a  few  yards  off.  A  new  thought 
jarred  through  his  nerves  !  He  got  up  and  walked  to 
the  brink.  Full  sixty  feet  to  the  bottom. 

Gnulemah  also  rose  slowly,  and  stretched  herself 
like  a  tired  child,  sending  a  lazy  tension  through  every 
noble  limb  and  polished  muscle.  She  sighed  with  a 
deep  breathing  in  and  out,  and  pressed  her  hands 
against  her  temples. 

"I  was  not  made  to  understand  such  things.  Tell 
me  of  what  you  have  done  or  seen,  —  I  shall  under 
stand  that.  The  things  my  love  does  not  enter  only 
trouble  me  and  make  me  sad." 

As  she  spoke,  she  turned  away  towards  the  house. 
She  saw,  or  thought  she  saw,  a  man's  figure  stealing 
cautiously  behind  a  clump  of  bushes  near  the  north- 


254  IDOLATRY. 

eastern  corner.      Her  listlessness   fell  from  her  like 
a  mantle,  and  she  watched,  motionless  ! 

Her  last  words  had  goaded  Balder  past  bearing.  As 
she  turned  away,  his  face  looked  grim  and  forlorn.  He 
balanced  with  half-raised  arms  on  the  cliff's  brink. 
The  river  slumbered  bluely  on  below,  peace  was  aloft 
in  the  sky,  and  joy  in  the  trees  and  grass.  But  in  the 
man  were  darkness  and  despair  and  loathing  of  his 
God-given  life ! 

The  thing  he  meditated  was  not  to  be,  however. 
Close  in  shore  a  little  boat  glided  into  view,  beating  up 
against  stream.  In  the  stern,  the  sheet  in  one  hand 
and  the  tiller  in  the  other,  sat  Balder's  old  friend 
Charon.  He  nodded  up  at  the  young  man  with  a 
recognizing  grin.  Then  he  laid  his  tiller-hand  aside 
his  brown  cheek  and  sang  out,  — 

"  Look  out  there,  Capt'n  !  Davy  Jones  's  got  back, 
—  run  foul  of  you  ! " 

The  next  moment  he  put  down  the  helm  and  ran 
out. 

Meantime  Balder,  coloring  from  shame,  had  stepped 
back  from  his  dangerous  position;  and  the  peril  was 
past.  But  the  paltering  irresolution  which  he  had  at 
all  points  displayed  urged  him  to  redeem  himself,  — 
else  was  he  lower  than  a  criminal.  He  went  towards 
Gnulernah,  —  knelt  down,  —  caught  her  dress,  —  he 
knew  not  what  he  did  !  In  a  blind  dance  of  sentences 


BALDER  TELLS  AN  UNTRUTH.  255 

he  told  her  that  he  was  a  murderer,  that  all  he  had 
said  pointed  at  himself,  that  with  his  own  hands  he 
had  killed  Hiero,  whose  body  now  lay  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea ;  many  frantic  words  he  spoke.  Thus, 
without  art  or  rhetoric,  roughly  dragged  forth  by  head 
and  ears,  came  his  momentous  confession  into  the 
world.  Gnulemah  had  more  than  once  striven  to 
check  it,  but  in  vain.  When  he  had  come  to  an  end, 
and  stood  tense  and  quivering  as  a  bowstring  whose 
arrow  has  just  flown,  these  words  reached  him  :  — 

"  Hiero  is  not  dead ;  he  is  there  behind  the  trees." 

Stiffly  he  turned  and  stared  bewildered.  Landscape, 
sky,  Gnulemah,  swam  before  his  eyes  in  fragments, 
like  images  in  troubled  water.  She  put  out  her  arm 
and  tenderly  supported  him. 

"  Where  ? "  said  he  at  length. 

"  Near  the  house,  —  there  ! "  she  pointed. 

Balder  began  to  walk  forward  doubtfully.  But,  sud 
denly  realizing  what  lay  before  him,  clearness  and 
vigor  ebbed  back.  He  saw  a  figure  turn  the  corner  of 
the  house.  Then  he  leapt  out  and  ran  like  a  stag- 
hound  ! 


XXIY. 

UNCLE  HIEEO   AT  LAST. 

I  1ST  a  couple,  of  minutes  Balder  was  at  the  house, 
breathless :  the  figure  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
He  sprang  across  the  broad  portico,  and  hurried  with 
sounding  feet  through  the  oaken  hall.  Should  he  go 
up  stairs,  or  on  to  the  conservatory  ?  The  sound  of  a 
softly  shutting  door  from  the  latter  direction  decided 
him.  The  place  looked  as  when  he  left  it  a  half-hour 
before.  Gnulemah's  curtain  had  not  been  moved.  The 
other  door  was  closed ;  he  ran  up  the  steps  between 
the  granite  sphinxes,  and  found  it  locked.  Butting  his 
shoulder  against  the  panel  with  impatient  force,  the 
hinges  broke  from  their  rotten  fastenings,  and  the 
door  gave  inwards.  Balder  stepped  past  it,  and  found 
himself  in  the  sombre  lamp-lit  interior  of  the  granite 
temple. 

He  could  discern  but  little ;  the  place  seemed  vast ; 
the  corners  were  veiled  in  profound  shadow.  At  the 
farther  end  a  huge  lamp  was  suspended,  by  a  chain 
from  the  roof,  over  a  triangular  altar  of  black  marble. 
The  architecture  of  the  room  was  strange  and  massive, 


UNCLE   HIERO  AT   LAST.  257 

as  of  Egyptian  temples.  Strong,  dark  colors  met  the 
eye  on  all  sides ;  in  the  panels  of  the  walls  and  dis 
tant  ceiling  fantastic  devices  showed  obscurely  forth. 
Nine  mighty  columns,  of  design  like  those  in  the 
doorway,  were  ranged  along  the  walls,  their  capitals 
buried  in  the  upward  gloom. 

Becoming  used  to  the  dusk,  Balder  now  marked  an 
array  of  colossal  upright  forms,  alternating  between 
the  pillars.  Their  rough  resemblance  to  human  figures 
drew  him  towards  one  of  them  :  it  was  an  Egyptian 
sarcophagus  covered  with  hieroglyphic  inscriptions, 
and  probably  holding  an  immemorial  mass  of  spiced 
flesh  and  rags.  These  silent  relics  of  a  prehistoric 
past  seemed  to  be  the  only  company  present.  In 
view  of  his  uncle's  well-known  tastes,  the  nephew 
was  not  unprepared  to  meet  these  gentry. 

But  he  was  come  to  seek  the  living,  not  the  dead. 
The  figure  that  he  had  seen  outside  must  be  within 
these  four  walk,  there  being  no  other  visible  outlet 
besides  the  door  through  which  Balder  had  entered. 
Was  old  Hiero  Glyphic  lurking  in  one  of  these 
darksome  corners,  or  behind  some  thick-set  column  ? 
The  young  man  looked  about  him  as  sharply  as  he 
could,  but  nothing  moved  except  the  shadows  thrown 
by  the  lamp,  which  was  vibrating  pendulum-like  en 
its  long  chain. 

He  approached  this  lamp,  his  steps  echoing  on  the 


258  IDOLATRY. 

floor  of  polished  granite.  What  had  set  the  thing 
swinging?  It  had  a  leisurely  elliptical  motion,  as 
from  a  moderate  push  sideways.  The  lamp  was 
wrought  in  bronze,  antique  of  fashion  and  ornament. 
It  had  capacity  for  gallons  of  oil,  and  would  burn 
for  weeks  without  refilling.  The  altar  beneath  was 
a  plain  black  marble  prism,  highly  polished,  resting 
upon  a  round  base  of  alabaster.  A  handful  of  ashes 
crowned  its  top.  Between  the  altar  and  the  wall  in 
tervened  a  space  of  about  seven  feet. 

The  glare  of  the  lamp  had  blinded  Balder  to  what 
was  beyond  it;  but,  on  stepping  round  it,  he  was 
confronted  by  an  old-fashioned  upright  clock,  such  as 
were  in  vogue  upon  staircase-landings  and  in  entrance- 
halls  a  hundred  years  ago.  With  its  broad,  white 
dial-plate,  high  shoulders,  and  dark  mahogany  case, 
it  looked  not  unlike  a  tall,  flat-featured  man,  holding 
himself  stiffly  erect.  But  whether  man  or  clock,  it 
was  lifeless ;  the  hands  were  motionless,  —  there  was 
no  sound  of  human  or  mechanical  heart-beat  within, 
though  Balder  held  his  yet  panting  breath  to  listen ! 
Was  it  Time's  coffin,  wherein  his  corpse  had  lain  for 
many  a  silent  year,  —  only  that  years  must  stand  still 
without  Time  to  drive  them  on  !  But  this  still  hall 
had  no  part  in  the  moving  world,  —  knew  naught 
of  life  and  change,  day  and  night.  Here  dwelt  a 
moveless  present,  —  a  present  at  once  past  and  to 


UNCLE   HIERO   AT   LAST.  259 

come,  yet  never  here  !  No  wonder  the  mummies  felt 
at  home  !  though  even  they  could  only  partially  appre 
ciate  the  situation. 

The  clock  was  fastened  against  the  wall.  The 
longer  Balder  gazed  at  it,  the  more  human-like  did 
it  appear.  Its  face  was  ornamented  with  colored  pic 
tures  of  astronomical  processes,  sufficiently  resembling 
a  set  of  shadowy  features,  of  a  depressed  and  insig 
nificant  type.  The  mahogany  case  served  for  a  close- 
fitting  brown  surtout,  buttoned  to  the  chin.  The  slow 
vibration  of  the  lamp  produced  on  the  countenance 
the  similitude  of  a  periodically  recurring  grimace. 

Not  only  did  the  clock  look  human,  but  —  or  so 
Balder  fancied  —  it  bore  a  grotesque  and  extravagant 
likeness  to  a  certain  elderly  relative  of  his,  whose 
portrait  he  had  carried  in  an  inner  pocket  of  his  haver- 
sac^  —  now  in  Long  Island  Sound.  It  reminded  him, 
in  a  word,  of  poor  old  Uncle  Hiero,  whom  he  had 
—  no,  no !  —  who  was  alive  and  well,  and  was  per 
haps  even  now  observing  his  dear  nephew's  per 
plexity,  and  maliciously  chuckling  over  it ! 

The  young  man  glanced  uneasily  over  his  shoul 
der,  but  all  beyond  the  lamp  was  a  gloomy  blank. 
The  same  moment  he  trod  upon  some  tough,  thick 
substance,  which  yielded  beneath  his  foot !  Thor 
oughly  startled,  he  jumped  back.  It  lay  near  the 
foot  of  the  clock.  He  stooped,  picked  it  up,  and 


260  IDOLATRY. 

held  in  his  hands  the  well-known  haversack,  from 
which  he  had  parted  on  board  the  "Empire  State." 
How  his  heart  beat  as  he  examined  it!  It  was 
stained  and  whitened  with  salt  water,  and  the  strap 
was  broken  in  two.  Opening  it,  there  were  his  toilet 
articles  and  all  his  other  treasures,  —  even  the  cher 
ished  miniature,  —  not  much  the  worse  for  their 
wetting.  So  there  could  no  longer  be  any  doubt  that 
his  uncle  had  come  back.  Where  was  he  ? 

That  queer  fancy  about  the  clock  stuck  in  Balder's 
head !  Somehow  or  other  it  must  be  connected  with 
Doctor  Glyph ic.  The  haversack,  dropped  at  its  foot, 
was  direct  evidence.  Yet,  did  ever  wise  man  harbor 
notion  so  irrational!  Its  manifest  absurdity  was  the 
only  excuse  for  thinking  it. 

With  no  declared  object  in  view,  Balder  grasped 
the  clock  by  its  high  shoulders  and  shook  it,  but 
with  no  result.  He  next  struck  the  mahogany 
smartly  with  clenched  fist:  the  blow  sounded,  —  not 
hollow,  but  close  and  muffled!  The  case  must  be 
either  solid,  or  filled  with  something  that  deadened 
the  echo.  Filled  with  what  ?  who  would  think  of 
putting  anything  in  a  clock?  It  was  big  enough, 
to  be  sure,  to  hold  a  man,  if  he  could  find  a  way  to 
get  in  ! 

The  sequence  of  thoughts  is  often  obscure,  but 
Balder's  next  idea,  wild  as  it  was,  could  hardly  be 


UNCLE  HIEEO  AT   LAST.  261 

called  incoherent.  A  man  might  be  conceived  to  be 
in  the  clock ;  perhaps  a  man  was  in  it ;  but  if  so,  the 
man  could  be  none  other  than  Doctor  Hiero  Glyphic  ! 

This  conclusion  once  imagined,  suspense  was  unen 
durable.  The  logician  tried  to  open  the  front  of  the 
case,  but  it  was  riveted  fast.  With  impetuous  fingers 
he  then  wrenched  at  the  disc.  With  a  sound  like  a 
rusty  screech,  it  came  off  in  his  hands.  The  lamp  so 
flickered  that  Balder  feared  it  was  going  out,  and  even 
at  this  epoch  had  to  look  round  to  reassure  himself. 
Meanwhile,  a  pungent,  but  not  unpleasant  odor  saluted 
his  nostrils  :  he  turned  back  to  the  clock,  —  a  clock  no 
longer !  —  and  beheld  the  unmistakable  lineaments 
of  his  worthy  uncle  peeping  forth  with  half-shut  eyes 
from  the  place  where  the  dial-plate  had  been. 

The  nephew  dropped  the  dial-plate,  and  it  was 
shattered  on  the  granite  floor.  He  was  badly  fright 
ened.  There  was  no  delusion  about  the  face,  —  it  was 
a  sufficiently  peculiar  one  ;  and  the  miniature  portrait, 
though  doing  the  Doctor's  beauty  at  least  justice,  was 
accurate  enough  to  identify  him  by.  This  was  no 
unsubstantial  apparition, — no  brain  phantom,  to  waver 
and  vanish,  leaving  only  an  uncomfortable  doubt 
whether  it  had  been  at  all.  Stolid,  undeniable  matter 
it  was,  peering  phlegmatically  between  its  wrinkled 
eyelids. 

But   admitting  that  now,  at  last,  we  have  lighted 


262  IDOLATRY. 

upon  the  genuine  and  authentic  Doctor  Glypliic,  why 
should  the  sight  of  him  so  oddly  affect  Balder  Helwyse, 
whose  avowed  object  in  pulliDg  off  the  dial-plate  had 
been  to  justify  a  suspicion  that  Uncle  Hiero  was 
behind  it  ?  "Why,  moreover,  did  the  young  man  not 
address  his  relative,  congratulating  himself  upon  their 
meeting,  and  rallying  the  old  gentleman  on  his  attempt 
to  escape  his  nephew's  affectionate  solicitude  ?  There 
had,  indeed,  been  a  misunderstanding  at  their  last 
encounter,  and  Balder  had  so  far  forgotten  himself 
as  to  throw  Hiero  into  the  sea ;  but  it  was  the  part 
of  good-breeding,  as  well  as  of  Christianity,  to  forget 
such  errors,  and  heal  the  bruise  with  an  extra  applica 
tion  of  balsamic  verbiage. 

Why  so  speechless,  Balder  ?  Do  you  wait  for  your 
host  to  speak  first  ?  Nay,  never  stand  on  ceremony. 
He  is  an  eccentric  recluse,  unused  to  the  ways  of 
society,  while  a  man  of  the  world  like  you  has  at  his 
tongue's  tip  a  score  of  phrases  just  suited  to  the 
occasion.  Speak  up,  therefore,  in  your  most  genial 
tone,  and  tell  the  Doctor  how  glad  you  are  to  find  him 
in  such  wonderful  preservation  !  Put  him  at  his  ease 
by  feigning  that  his  position  appears  to  you  the  most 
natural  in  the  world,  — just  what  befits  a  gentleman 
of  his  years  and  honors !  Flatter  him,  if  only  from 
self-interest,  for  he  has  a  deep  pocket,  and  may  be 
induced  to  let  you  put  a  hand  in  it. 


UNCLE   HIERO   AT   LAST.  263 

Not  a  word  in  response  to  all  this  eloquence,  Balder? 
Positively  your  behavior  appears  rather  curmudgeonly 
than  heroic  !  You  stand  gazing  at  your  relative  with 
almost  as  much  fixedness  as  he  returns  your  stare 
withal.  There  is  something  odd  about  this. 

What  is  that  pungent  odor  ?  Is  the  Doctor  a 
dandy,  that  he  should  use  perfumes  ?  And  where  did 
he  get  so  peculiar  a  scent  as  this  ?  It  is  commonly  in 
vogue  only  at  that  particular  toilet  which  no  man  ever 
performed  for  himself,  but  which  never  needs  to  be 
done  twice,  —  a  kind  of  toilet,  by  the  way,  especially 
prevalent  amongst  the  ancient  Egyptians.  Since,  then, 
Doctor  Glyphic  is  so  ardent  an  Egyptologist,  perhaps 
we  have  hit  upon  the  secret  of  his  remarkable  odor- 
iferousness.  But  to  shut  one's  self  up  in  a  box  that 
looks  so  uncommonly  like  a  coffin,  —  is  not  that  carry 
ing  the  antiquarian  whim  a  trifle  too  far  ? 

This  face  of  his,  —  one  fancies  there  is  a  curiously 
dry  look  about  it !  The  unnaturally  yellow  skin  re 
sembles  a  piece  of  good-for-nothing  wrinkled  parch 
ment.  The  lips  partake  of  the  prevailing  sallow  tint, 
and  the  mouth  hangs  a  little  awry.  From  the  cloth 
in  which  the  head  is  so  elaborately  bandaged  up  strays 
forth,  here  and  there,  an  arid  lock  of  hair.  The  lack 
of  united  expression  in  his  features  produces  an  effect 
seldom  observable  in  a  living  face.  The  eyes  are 
lustreless,  and  densely  black ;  or  possibly  (the  sus- 


2G4  IDOLATRY. 

picion  is  a  startling  one)  we  are  looking  into  empty 
eye-sockets  !  No  eyes,  no  expression,  parchment  skin, 
swathed  head,  odor  of  myrrh  and  cassia*  and,  dominat 
ing  all,  this  ghastly  immobility  !  Has  Doctor  Glyphic 
even  now  escaped,  leaving  us  to  waste  time  and  senti 
ment  over  some  worn-out  disguise  of  his  ?  Nay,  if  he 
be  not  here,  we  need  not  seek  him  further.  Having 
forsaken  this,  he  can  attain  no  other  earthly  hiding- 
place.  We  must  pause  here,  and  believe  either  that 
this  dry  time-husk  is  the  very  last  of  poor  Hiero,  or 
that  a  living  being  which  once  bore  his  name  has 
vanished  inward  from  our  reach,  and  now  treads  a 
more  real  earth  than  any  that  time  and  space  are 
sovereign  over. 

Balder  (whose  perceptions  were  unlimited  by  artistic 
requirements)  probably  needed  no  second  glance  to  as 
sure  him  that  his  uncle  was  a  mummy  of  many  years' 
standing.  But  no  effort  of  mental  gymnastics  could 
explain  him  the  fact.  Were  this  real,  then  was  his 
steamboat  adventure  a  dream,  the  revelation  of  the 
ring  a  delusion,  and  his  water-stained  haversack  a 
phantom.  He  wandered  clewless  in  a  maze  of  mys 
tery.  Nor  was  this  the  first  paradox  he  had  encoun 
tered  since  overleaping  the  brick  wall.  He  began  to 
question  whether  supernaturalism  had  not  been  too 
hastily  dismissed  by  lovers  of  wisdom  ! 

Thus  do  the  actors  in  the  play  of  life  plod  from  one 


UNCLE  HIERO  AT   LAST.  265 

to  another  scene,  nor  once  rise  to  a  height  whence  a 
glance  might  survey  past  and  future.  Memory  and 
prophecy  are  twin  sisters,  —  nay,  they  are  essentially 
one  muse,  whom  mankind  worships  on  this  ^  side  and 
slights  on  that.  This  is  well,  for  had  she  but  one 
aspect,  the  world  would  be  either  too  confident  or  too 
helpless.  But  in  reviewing  a  life,  one  is  apt  to  make 
less  than  due  allowance  for  the  helplessness.  Thus  it 
is  no  prejudice  to  Balder's  intellectual  acumen  that  he 
failed  for  a  moment  to  penetrate  the  thin  disguises  of 
events,  and  to  perceive  relations  obvious  to  the  com 
prehensive  view  of  history.  We  will  take  advantage 
of  his  bewildered  pause  to  draw  attention  to  some 
matters  heretofore  neglected. 


12 


XXY. 

THE  HAPPINESS   OF  MAN. 

WHEN  Manetho,  —  who  shall  no  longer  perplex 
us  with  his  theft  of  a  worthier  man's  name,  — 
when  Manetho  felt  himself  worsted  in  the  brief  strenu 
ous  struggle,  he  tried  to  drag  his  antagonist  ayerboard 
with  him.  But  his  convulsive  fingers  seized  only  the 
leathern  strap  of  the  haversack.  Balder  —  his  Ber 
serker  fury  at  white  heat  —  flung  the  man  with  such 
terrible  strength  as  drove  him  headlong  over  the  taff- 
rail  like  a  billet  of  wood,  the  stout  strap  snapping  like 
thread  ! 

Manetho  struck  the  water  in  sorry  plight,  breath 
less,  bruised,  half  strangled.  He  sank  to  a  chilly 
depth,  but  carried  his  wits  down  with  him,  and  these 
brought  him  up  again  alive,  however  exhausted.  Too 
weak  to  swim,  he  yet  had  strength  left  to  keep  afloat. 
But  for  the  collision,  he  had  drowned,  after  all ! 

The  cool  salt  bath  presently  helped  him  to  a  little 
energy,  and  by  the  time  the  steamer  was  under  way, 
he  could  think  of  striking  out.  It  was  with  no  small 
relief  that  he  heard  near  voices  sounding  through  the 


THE   HAPPINESS   OF   MAN.  267 

black  fog.  Partly  by  dint  of  feeble  struggles,  partly 
shouldered  on  by  waves,  —  ready  to  save  as  to  drown 
him, — he  managed  to  accomplish  the  short  distance 
to  the  schooner.  With  all  his  might  he  shouted  for 
a  rope,  and  amidst  much  yo-heave-ho-ing,  cursing,  and 
astonishment,  was  at  length  hauled  aboard,  the  haver 
sack  in  his  grasp. 

The  skipper  and  his  crew  were  kind  to  him;  for 
men  still  have  compassion  upon  one  another,  and 
give  succor  according  to  the  need  of  the  moment, — 
not  to  the  balance  of  good  and  evil  in  the  sufferer. 
The  wind  freshened,  an  impromptu  bowsprit  was 
rigged,  and  the  "  Eesurrection "  limped  towards  New 
York.  Manetho's  partial  stupor  was  relieved  by  hot 
grog  and  the  cook's  stove.  He  gave  no  further  ac 
count  of  himself  than  that  he  had  fallen  overboard 
at  the  moment  of  collision;  adding  a  request  to  be 
landed  in  New  York,  since  he  had  left  some  valu 
able  luggage  on  the  steamer. 

The  skipper  gave  the  stranger  his  own  bunk,  the 
off-watch  turned  in,  and  Manetho  was  left  to  him 
self.  He  lay  for  a  long  while  thinking  over  what 
had  happened. .  Bewitched  by  the  spell  of  night,  he 
had  spoken  to  Helwyse  things  never  before  distinctly 
stated  even  to  his  own  mind.  The  subtle,  perverse 
devil  who  had  discoursed  so  freely  to  his  unknown 
hearer  had  scarcely  been  so  unreserved  to  Manetho's 


268  IDOLATEY. 

private  ear;  and  the  devilish  utterances  had  stirred 
up  the  latter  not  much  less  than  the  former. 

Both  men  had  been  wrought,  according  to  their 
diverse  natures,  to  the  pitch  of  frenzy.  But  similar 
crazy  seizures  had  been  incident  to  the  Egyptian 
from  boyhood.  He  had  anxiously  watched  against 
them,  and  contrived  various  means  to  their  mitiga 
tion, —  the  most  successful  being  the  music  of  his 
violin,  which  he  seldom  let  beyond  his  reach.  Yet, 
again  and  again  would  the  fit  steal  a  march  on  him. 
Hence,  in  part,  his  retired  way  of  life,  varied  only 
by  the  brief  journeys  demanded  by  the  twofold 
craving  —  for  gambling  and  for  news  of  Thor,  who 
figured  in  his  morbid  imagination  as  the  enemy  of 
his  soul ! 

The  news  never  came,  but  all  the  more  brooded 
Manetho  over  his  hatred  and  his  fancied  wrongs. 
His  mind  had  never  been  entirely  sound,  and  years 
tinged  it  more  and  more  deeply  with  insanity.  His 
philosophy  of  life  —  obscure  indeed  if  tried  by  sane 
standards  —  emits  a  dusky  glimmer  when  read  by 
this.  He  would  creep  through  miles  of  subterranean 
passages  to  achieve  an  end  which  one  glance  above 
ground  would  have  argued  vain ! 

Lying  on  the  bunk  in  the  close  cabin,  lighted  by 
a  dirty  lantern  pendent  from  the  roof,  the  Eeverend 
Manetho  began  to  fear  that  not  his  worst  misfortune 


THE  HAPPINESS   OF   MAN.  269 

was  the  having  been  thrown  overboard.  At  the  mo 
ment  when  madness  was  smouldering  to  a  blaze 
within  him,  the  lantern  flash  had  revealed  to  him 
the  face  which,  for  twenty  years,  he  had  seen  in  vis 
ions.  Often  had  he  rehearsed  this  meeting,  varying 
his  imaginary  behavior  to  suit  all  conceivable  moods 
and  attitudes  of  his  enemy,  but  never  thinking  to 
provide  for  perversity  in  himself!  So  far  from  veil 
ing  his  designs  with  the  soft-voiced  cunning  of  his 
Oriental  nature,  he  had  been  a  wild  beast !  A  mis 
giving  haunted  him,  moreover,  that  he  had  babbled 
something  in  the  false  security  of  darkness,  which 
might  give  Helwyse  a  clew  to  his  secret. 

But  here  Manetho  asked  himself  a  question  that 
might  have  suggested  itself  before.  Was  it  really 
his  enemy,  Thor  Helwyse,  whose  face  he  had  seen? 
or  only  some  likeness  of  him  ? 

Thor  must  be  threescore  years  old  by  this,  —  the 
senior  by  ten  years  of  Manetho  himself;  while  his 
late  antagonist  had  the  strength  and  aspect  of  half 
that  age.  Yet  how  could  he  be  mistaken  in  the 
face  which  had  haunted  him  during  more  than  the 
third  part  of  his  lifetime  ?  He  had  recognized  it 
on  the  instant ! 

"  I  will  ask  the  haversack ! "  said  he.  He  sat  up, 
and,  bracing  himself  against  the  roll  of  the  vessel, 
he  opened  the  bag  and  carefully  examined  its  con- 


270  IDOLATRY. 

tents.  In  an  inner  pocket  he  found  an  old  letter 
of  Doctor  Glyphic's  to  Thor;  another  from  Thor  to 
his  son,  dated  three  years  back;  and  finally  a  diary 
kept  by  Balder  Helwyse,  which  gave  Manetho  all 
the  information  he  wanted. 

He  had  so  arranged  matters  that  at  Glyphic's  death 
he  had  got  the  control  of  the  money  into  his  own 
hands,  and  had  made  such  diligent  use  of  it  that 
enough  was  not  now  left  to  pay  for  his  prosecution 
as  a  thief  and  forger.  In  fact,  had  Balder  delayed 
his  return  another  year,  he  would  have  found  the  en 
chanted  castle  in  possession  of  the  auctioneer ;  and  as 
to  the  fate  of  its  inhabitants,  one  does  not  like  to 
speculate ! 

Having  read  the  papers,  Manetho  replaced  them, 
and  next  pulled  out  the  miniature  of  Doctor  Glyphic. 
He  studied  this  for  a  long  time.  It  was  the  portrait 
of  a  man  to  whom — so  long  as  their  earthly  relations 
had  continued  —  the  Egyptian  renegade  had  been 
faithful.  Perhaps  there  was  some  secret  germ  of  ex 
cellence  in  poor  Hiero,  unsuspected  by  the  rest  of  the 
world,  but  revealed  to  Manetho,  from  whom  in  turn  it 
had  drawn  the  best  virtues  that  his  life  had  to  show. 
Doctor  Glyphic  had  never  been  a  comfortable  com 
panion  ;  but  Manetho  was  always  patient  and  honest 
with  him.  This  integrity  and  forbearance  were  the 
more  remarkable,  since  the  Doctor  seldom  acknowl- 


THE   HAPPINESS   OF   MAN.  271 

edged  a  kindness,  and  knew  so  little  of  business  that 
he  might  have  been  robbed  of  his  fortune  at  any  mo 
ment  with  impunity. 

Either  from  physical  exhaustion  or  for  some  worthier 
reason,  the  Egyptian  cried  over  this  miniature,  as  an 
affectionate  girl  might  have  cried  over  the  portrait  of 
her  dead  lover.  For  a  time  he  was  all  tears  and  soft 
ness.  His  emotion  had  not  the  convulsiveness  which, 
with  men  of  his  age,  is  apt  to  accompany  the  exhibition 
of  much  feeling.  He  wept  with  feminine  fluency,  nor 
did  his  tearfulness  seem  out  of  character.  There  was  a 
great  deal  of  the  woman  in  him. 

Having  wept  his  fill,  he  tenderly  wiped  his  eyes,  and 
returned  the  picture  to  its  receptacle ;  and  first  assur 
ing  himself  that  nothing  else  was  concealed  in  the 
haversack,  he  shut  it  up  and  resumed  his  meditations. 

It  was  the  son,  then,  whom  he  had  met,  —  and  Thor 
was  dead.  Dead  !  —  that  was  a  hard  fact  for  Manetho 
to  swallow.  His  enemy  had  escaped  him,  —  was  dead  ! 
Through  all  the  years  of  waiting,  Manetho  had  not 
anticipated  this.  How  should  Thor  die  before  revenge 
had  been  wreaked  upon  him  ?  —  But  he  was  dead  ! 

By  degrees,  however,  his  mind  began  to  adjust  itself 
to  the  situation.  The  son,  at  all  events,  was  left  him. 
He  cuddled  the  thought,  whispering  to  himself  and 
slyly  smiling.  Did  not  the  father  live  again  in  the 
son  ?  he  would  lose  nothing,  therefore,  —  not  lose,  but 


272  IDOLATRY. 

gain  I  The  seeming  loss  was  a  blessing  in  disguise. 
The  son,  —  young,  handsome,  hot  of  blood  !  Already 
new  schemes  began  to  take  shape  in 'the  Egyptian's 
brain.  His  dear  revenge!  —  it  should  not  starve,  but 
feed  on  the  fat  of  the  land,  —  yea,  be  drunk  with 
strong  wine. 

He  lay  hugging  himself,  his  long  narrow  eyes  gleam 
ing,  his  full  lips  working  together.  He  was  revolving 
a  devilish  project,  —  the  flintiest  criminal  might  have 
shuddered  at  it.  But  there  was  nothing  flinty  nor  un 
feeling  about  Manetho.  His  emotions  were  alert  and 
moist,  his  smile  came  and  went,  his  heart  beat  full ;  he 
was  now  the  girl  listening  to  her  lover's  first  passionate 
declaration  ! 

He  had  gathered  from  Balder's  diary  that  the  young 
man  was  in  search  of  his  uncle,  and  had  been  on  his 
way  to  the  house  at  the  time  of  their  encounter.  There 
was  a  chance  that  this  unlucky  episode  might  frighten 
him  away.  He  no  doubt  supposed  himself  guilty  of 
manslaughter  at  least;  how  gladly  would  the  clergy 
man  have  reassured  him  !  And  indeed  there  was  no 
resentment  in  Manetho's  heart  because  of  his  rough 
usage  at  Balder's  hands.  His  purposes  lay  too  deep  to 
influence  shallower  moods.  He  presented  a  curious 
mixture  of  easy  forgiveness  and  immitigable  malice. 

The  only  other  anxiety  besetting  him  arose  from  the 
loss  of  the  ring.  He  looked  upon  it  as  a  talisman  of 


THE  HAPPINESS   OF  MAN.  273 

excellent  virtue,  and  moreover  perceived  that  in  case 
Balder  should  pick  it  up,  it  might  become  the  means 
of  identifying  its  owner  and  obstructing  his  plans. 
But  these  were  mere  contingencies.  The  probability 
was  that  young  Helwyse  would  ultimately  appear  at 
his  uncle's  house,  and  would  there  be  ensnared  in  the 
seductive  meshes  of  Manetho's  web.  The  ring  was 
most  likely  at  the  bottom  of  the  Sound.  So,  smiling 
his  subtle  feminine  smile,  the  Egyptian  fell  asleep,  to 
dream  of  the  cordial  welcome  he  would  give  his  ex 
pected  guest. 

Towards  midnight  of  the  same  day  he  approaches 
the  house  by  way  of  the  winding  avenue,  his  violin- 
case  safe  in  hand.  He  steps  out  joyfully  beneath  the 
wide-spread  minuet  of  twinkling  stars.  On  his  way  he 
comes  to  a  moss-grown  bench  at  the  foot  of  a  mighty 
elm,  —  the  bench  on  which  he  sat  with  Helen  during 
the  stirring  moments  of  their  last  interview.  Manetho's 
soul  overflows  to-night  with  flattering  hopes,  and  he 
has  spare  emotion  for  any  demand.  He  drops  on  his 
knees  beside  this  decayed  old  bench,  and  kisses  it 
twice  or  thrice  with  tender  vehemence ;  stretches  out 
his  arms  to  embrace  the  air,  and  ripples  forth  a  half- 
dozen  sentences,  —  pleading,  insinuating,  passionate. 
He  can  love  her  again  as  much  as  ever,  now  that  the 
wrong  done  him  is  on  the  eve  of  requital. 

But  his  mood  is  no  less   fickle   than  melting.     Al- 

12*  K 


274  IDOLATRY. 

ready  he  is  up  and  away,  almost  dancing  along  the 
shadowed,  romantic  tree-aisle,  his  eyes  glistening  black 
in  the  starlight,  —  no  longer  with  a  lover's  luxurious 
sorrow,  but  with  the  happy  anticipation  of  an  artless 
child,  promised  a  holiday  and  playthings.  So  lightsome 
and  expansive  is  Manetho's  heart,  the  hollow  hemi 
sphere  of  heaven  seems  none  too  roomy  for  it! 

Evil  as  well  as  good  knows  its  moments  of  bliss,  — 
its  hours!  Hell  is  the  heaven  of  devils,  and  they 
want  no  better.  Often  do  the  wages  of  sin  come 
laden  with  a  seeming  blessing  that  those  of  virtue 
lack.  The  sinner  looks  upon  Satan's  face,  and  it  is 
to  him  as  the  face  of  God ! 

But  from  the  womb  of  this  grim  truth  is  born  a 
noble  consolation.  Were  hell  mere  torment,  and  joy 
in  heaven  only,  where  were  the  good  man's  merit  ? 
On]y  when  the  choice  lies  between  two  heavens  — 
the  selfish  and  the  unselfish  —  is  the  battle  worthy 
the  fighting !  No  human  soul  dies  from  earth  that 
attains  not  heaven,  —  that  heaven  which  the  heart 
chiefly  sought  while  in  this  world;  and  herefrom  is 
the  genesis  of  virtue.  Sin  brings  its  self-inflicted  pen 
alties  there  as  here ;  but  hell  is  still  the  happiness 
of  man,  heaven  of  God  ! 

Reaching  the  house,  Manetho  passed  through  the 
open  door,  crossed  the  hall  with  his  customary  noise- 
lessness,  and  entered  the  conservatory.  Despite  the 


THE  HAPPINESS  OF  MAN.  275 

darkness,  he  was  at  once  aware  of  the  motionless 
group  beneath  the  palm-trees.  A  stranger  in  the  house 
was  something  so  unprecedented  that  he  could  not 
repress  a  throb  of  alarm.  Nurse  looked  up  and  beck 
oned  him.  Drawing  near,  he  heard  the  long,  deep 
breathing  of  the  sleeper.  With  a  sudden  fore-glimpse 
of  the  truth,  he  knelt  down,  and  bent  over  the  up 
turned  countenance. 

Though  the  beard  was  close-shaven  and  the  hair 
cropped  short,  there  could  be  no  doubt  about  the  face. 
His  guest  had  come  before  him,  and  was  lying  defence 
less  at  his  feet;  but  Manetho  harbored  no  thought  of 
violence.  He  pressed  his  slender  hands  together  with 
an  impulse  of  sympathy.  "Poor  fellow!"  he  whis 
pered,  "how  he  has  suffered!  How  the  horror  of 
blood-guiltiness  must  have  tortured  him !  The  noble 
Helwyse  hair,  —  all  gone !  Too  dear  a  price  to  pay 
for  the  mere  sacrifice  of  a  human  life  !  And  pain 
and  all  might  have  been  spared  him,  —  poor  fellow! 
poor  fellow ! "  Manetho  lacked  but  little  of  shedding 
true  tears  over  the  evidence  of  his  dearest  foe's  use 
less  dread  and  anguish.  Did  he  wish  Balder  to  bring 
undulled  nerves  to  his  own  torture-chamber  ? 

His  lament  over,  Manetho  turned  to  Nurse  for  such 
information  regarding  the  guest's  arrival  and  behavior 
as  she  might  have  to  communicate.  Of  his  own  affair 
with  Balder  he  made  no  mention.  The  conversation 


276  IDOLATRY. 

was  carried  on  by  signs,  according  to  a  code  long  since 
grown  up  between  the  two.  When  the  tale  was  told, 
Nurse  was  despatched  to  make  ready  Helen's  room 
for  the  new-comer,  and  thither  did  the  two  laboriously 
bear  him,  and  laid  him,  still  sleeping,  on  his  mother's 
bed. 


XXVI. 

MUSIC  AND  MADNESS. 

BEFOEE  leaving  Baldef  to  his  repose,  Manetho 
paused  to  regain  his  breath,  and  to  throw  a 
glance  round  the  room.  It  was  a  place  he  seldom 
visited.  He  had  seen  Helen's  dead  body  lie  on  that 
bed,  and  the  sight  had  bred  in  him  an  animosity 
against  the  chamber  and  everything  it  contained. 
After  Doctor  Glyphic's  death  he  had  gratified  this  feel 
ing  in  a  characteristic  manner.  Possessing  a  genius 
for  drawing  second  only  to  that  for  music,  he  had  ex 
ercised  it  on  the  walls  of  the  room,  originally  modelled 
and  tinted  to  represent  a  robin's  egg.  He  mixed  his 
colors  with  the  bitter  distillations  of  his  heart,  and 
created  the  beautiful  but  ill-omened  vision  which  long 
afterwards  so  disquieted  Balder.  — 

From  the  chamber  he  now  repaired  to  the  kitchen, 
which  was  in  some  respects  the  most  attractive  place  in 
the  house.  The  smoky  ceiling ;  the  cavernous  cupboards 
opening  into  the  walls ;  the  stanch  dressers,  polished  by 
use  and  mottled  with  many  an  ancient  stain  ;  the  great 
black  range,  which  would  have  cooked  a  meal  for  a 


278  IDOLATRY. 

troop  of  men-at-arms,  —  all  spoke  of  homely  human 
comfort.  Nurse  had  Manetho's  meal  ready  for  him, 
and,  having  set  it  out  on  the  table,  she  retired  to 
her  position  in  the  chimney-corner.  The  Egyptian's 
spare  body  was  ordinarily  nourished  with  little  more 
than  goes  to  the  support  of  an  Arab,  and  Nurse's 
monotonous  life  must  have  been  unfavorable  to  large 
appetite.  As  for  Gnulemah,  —  although  young  women 
are  said  to  thrive  and  grow  beautiful  on  a  diet  of 
morning  dew,  noonday  sunshine,  and  evening  mist, 
—  it  seems  quite  likely  that  she  ate  no  less  than 
the  health  and  activity  of  a  Diana  might  naturally 
require. 

Manetho  made  a  gleeful  repast,  and  Nurse  looked 
on  from  her  corner,  externally  as  unattractive-looking 
a  woman  as  one  would  wish  to  see.  Nevertheless,  had 
she  been  made  as  some  clocks  are,  with  a  plate  of 
glass  over  her  inner  movements,  she  would  have 
monopolized  the  clergyman's  attention  and  impaired 
his  appetite.  He  did  not  sit  down  to  the  table,  but 
took  up  one  viand  after  another,  and  ate  as  he  walked 
to  and  fro  the  floor.  Supper  over,  he  crowned  it  with 
an  unheard-of  excess,  —  for  Manetho  was  commonly  a 
very  temperate  man.  He  brought  from  a  cupboard  a 
dusty  bottle  of  priceless  wine,  which  had  once  enriched 
the  cellar  of  a  king  of  Spain.  Drawing  the  cork,  he 
poured  some  of  the  golden  liquor  into  a  slender  glass, 


MUSIC  AND  MADNESS.  279 

while  the  spiritual  aroma  flowed  invisible  along  the 
air,  visiting  every  darksome  nook,  and  even  saluting 
Nurse,  who  had  long  been  a  stranger  to  any  such 
delicate  attention. 

Manetho  filled  two  glasses,  and  then  beckoned  Nurse 
to  come  from  her  corner,  and  drink  with  him.  Forth 
she  hobbled  accordingly,  looking  more  than  usually 
ugly  by  reason  of  her  surprise  and  embarrassment  at 
the  unexpected  summons.  Manetho,  on  the  other  hand, 
seemed  to  have  cast  aside  his  years,  and  to  be  once 
more  the  graceful,  sinuous,  courteous  youth,  whose 
long  black  eyes  had,  long  ago,  seen  Salome's  heart. 
With  an  elegant  gesture  he  handed  her  the  brimming 
wineglass,  accompanying  it  with  a  smile  which  well- 
nigh  shook  it  from  between  her  fingers.  He  took  up 
his  own  glass,  and  said,  — 

"  I  seldom  drink  wine,  Nurse,  —  never,  unless  a  lady 
joins  me  !  Once  I  drank  with  her  whose  chamber 
our  guest  now  occupies;  and  once  with  another  — 
Manetho  paused.  "  I  never  speak  her  name,  Nurse  ; 
but  we  loved  each  other.  I  did  not  treat  her  well ! " 
he  murmured  with  a  sigh,  tears  in  his  eyes.  "  Were 
she  here  to-night,  at  her  feet  would  I  sue  for  pardon, — 
the  renewal  of  our  love.  By  my  soul ! "  he  cried,  sud 
denly,  "  I  had  thought  to  drink  a  far  different  toast ; 
but  let  this  glass  be  drained  to  the  memory  of  the 
sweet  moments  she  and  I  have  known  together ! 
Drink ! " 


280  IDOLATRY. 

He  tossed  off  the  wine.  But  poor  Nurse,  strangely 
agitated,  dropped  hers  on  the  floor  ;  the  precious  liquor 
was  spilled,  and  the  glass  shivered.  '  She  gazed  be 
seechingly  at  Manetho.  Could  he  not  penetrate  that 
mask  to  the  face  behind  it  ?  Is  flesh  so  miserably 
opaque  that  no  spark  of  the  inwardly  burning  soul  can 
make  itself  felt  or  seen  without  ?  Manetho  saw  only 
the  broken  glass  and  its  wasted  contents  ! 

"  You  are  as  clumsy  as  you  are  ugly  ! "  said  he. 
"  Go  back  to  your  corner.  I  must  converse  with  my 
violin." 

She  returned  heavily  to  her  place,  feeling  the 
darker  and  colder  because  that  wine  had  been  spilled 
before  she  could  raise  it  to  her  lips.  One  taste,  she 
fancied,  might  have  begun  a  transformation  in  her  life  ! 
But  we  know  not  the  weight  of  the  chains  we  lay 
upon  our  limbs. 

The  Egyptian's  buoyant  humor  had  dismissed  the 
whole  matter  in  another  moment.  He  opened  his 
violin-case,  lovingly  caressing  the  instrument  as  he 
took  it  out.  Then  he  tucked  it  fondly  under  his  chin, 
and  resumed  his  walking.  The  delicately  potent  wine 
warbled  through  his  nerves,  and  tinted  memory  with 
imagination. 

The  bow,  traversing  the  strings,  drew  forth  from 
them  a  sweet  and  plaintive  note,  like  the  tender 
remonstrance  of  a  neglected  friend.  No  language  says 


MUSIC  AND   MADNESS.  281 

so  much  in  so  short  space  as  music,  nor  will,  till  we 
banish  those  dead  bones,  consonants,  and  adopt  the 
pure  vowel  speech  of  infants  and  angels. 

"  Ay,  long  have  we  been  apart,  my  beloved  one,  and 
much  have  I  needed  thee  ! "  murmured  Manetho.  "  I 
yearned  for  thy  soothing  and  refreshing  voice ;  yea, 
death  walked  near  me,  because  thou,  my  preserver, 
wast  not  by  to  guard  me.  But,  rejoice !  all  is  again 
well  with  us,  —  the  hour  of  our  triumph  is  near ! " 

The  fine  instrument  responded,  carolling  forth  an 
exquisite  pasan,  —  an  ascending  scale,  mounting  to  a 
breathless  ecstasy,  and  falling  in  slower  melody  along 
gliding  waves  of  fortunate  sound.  The  player  drank 
each  perfect  note,  till  his  pulses  beat  in  unison  with 
the  rhythm.  His  violin  and  he  were  wedded  lovers 
since  his  youth,  nor  had  discord  ever  come  between 
them. 

"  Two  little  children  weaving  flower-chains  for  each 
other  in  the  grass.  I  said,  '  The  one  that  first  comes 
to  me  shall  be  mine  ! '  And  the  little  maiden  arose, 
leaving  her  brother  among  the  flowers.  So  one  was 
taken  and  the  other  left.  But,  behold !  the  brother 
has  come  to  play  with  his  sister  once  more ! " 

Again  the  music  —  a   divine   philosopher's  stone  — 
touched   the   theme   into   fine-spun   golden   harmony. 
The  dusky  kitchen,  with  its  one  dull  lamp  glimmering 
on  the  table,  broadened  with  marble  floors,  and  sprang 


282  IDOLATRY. 

aloft  in  airy  arches !  Twinkling  stars  hung  between 
the  columns,  burning  with  a  fragrance  like  flowers.  It 
was  a  summer  morning,  just  before  sunrise.  The  clear 
faces  of  children  peeped  from  violet-strewn  recesses 
where  they  had  passed  the  night ;  and,  as  their  sweet 
eyes  met,  they  shouted  for  joy,  and  ran  to  embrace  one 
another. 

"  Oh  !  my  beloved,"  softly  burst  forth  the  Egyptian, 
"  how  blessed  are  we  to-night ! "  He  touched  the 
strings  to  a  measured  tune,  following  with  a  minuet- 
step  up  and  down  the  floor.  A  fantastic  spectacle ! 
for  as  he  passed  and  repassed  the  lamp,  an  elastic 
shadow  crept  noiselessly  behind  him,  dodged  beneath 
his  feet,  and  anon  outstretched  itself  like  a  sudden 
pit  yawning  before  him.  "This  night  repays  the 
dreary  years  that  lie  behind.  How  have  I  outlasted 
them !  What  had  I  fallen  on  the  very  threshold  of 
requital  ?  —  all  I  had  hoped  and  labored  for,  a  failure  ! " 

Here  paused  the  tune  and  the  dance,  and  arose  a 
weird  dirge  of  compassion  over  what  might  have  been  ! 
So  moving  was  it,  the  player  himself  was  melted.  His 
dark  nature  showed  its  fairest  side,  —  sensitive  re 
finement,  grace  of  expression,  flowing  ease  of  manner. 
Quick  was  he  in  fancy,  emotional,  soft  and  strong, 
gentle  and  fiery.  In  this  hour  he  bloomed,  like  some 
night-flowering  plant,  of  perfume  sweet  but  poisonous. 
This  was  Manetho's  apogee  ! 


MUSIC   AND   MADNESS.  283 

Again  his  humor  changed,  and  he  became  playful 
and  frivolous.  Had  old  Nurse  in  the  corner  been 
a  little  more  personable,  he  might  have  caught 
her  round  the  waist,  and  forced  her  to  tread  a  wild 
measure  with  him.  But  this  unfolding  of  his  facul 
ties  in  the  shower  of  good  fortune  had  refined  his 
aesthetic  susceptibility.  The  withered,  disfigured  wo 
man  was  no  partner  for  him  ! 

She  sat,  following,  with  the  intentness  of  her  single 
eye,  his  every  motion,  her  head  swaying  in  uncon 
scious  sympathy.  Although  her  body  sat  so  stiff  and 
awkward  in  the  chimney-seat,  her  spirit,  inspired  with 
the  grace  of  love,  was  dancing  with  Manetho's.  But 
the  body  kept  its  place,  knowing  that  erelong  he  too 
must  come  to  rest.  In  the  light  of  a  vivid  recollec 
tion,  the  long  tract  between  fades  and  foreshortens, 
till  only  the  Then  and  the  Now  are  notable.  How 
ever,  the  light  will  pale,  the  dusty  miles  outstretch 
their  length  once  more,  and  the  pilgrim  find  himself 
wearier  than  ever. 

But  meanwhile  the  clergyman  floats  hither  and 
thither  like  a  wreath  of  black  smoke  blown  about 
by  a  draught  of  air.  One  might  have  expected  to 
see  him  all  at  once  vanish  up  the  wide-mouthed  chim 
ney.  The  music  seems  to  emanate  less  from  the  in 
strument  than  from  the  player ;  it  interprets  and  colors 
every  motion  and  expression.  His  chanting  and  his 


284  IDOLATRY. 

playing  answer  and  supplement  each  other,  like  stro 
phe  and  antistrophe. 

"  Let  me  tell  thee  why  I  rejoice,  that  thy  sympathy 
may  increase  my  joy ! 

"  A  beautiful  woman,  young,  a  fountain  of  fresh  life, 
an  ivory  vase  filled  with  earthly  flowers.  The  eye 
that  gazes  on  her  form  is  taken  captive  ;  yea,  her 
face  intoxicates  the  senses.  But  she  is  poisonous,  a 
queen  of  death,  and  her  feet  walk  towards  destruc 
tion  ! 

"  Supple  and  strong  is  she  as  the  -serpent,  quick 
and  graceful  as  the  panther.  Food  has  she  for  nour 
ishment,  for  the  warming  of  the  blood ;  exercises  for 
the  body,  to  keep  her  healthful  and  fair.  Her  triumph 
is  in  the  flesh,  — she  finds  it  perfect.  The  flesh  she 
deems  divine,  —  the  earth,  a  heaven  ! 

"  Books,  the  world  of  men,  —  she  knows  not :  sees 
in  herself  Creation's  cause  and  centre;  in  God,  but 
the  myriad  reflex  of  her  beauty.  Self  is  her  God, 
whom  she  worships  in  thunder  and  lightning,  in  sun 
and  stars,  in  fire  and  water.  Dreaming  and  waking 
are  alike  real  to  her:  she  knows  not  to  divide  truth 
from  falsehood. 

"Whom  should  she  thank  for  health,  for  life  and 
birth  ?  She  is  born  of  the  fire  that  burns  in  her  own 
bosom.  To  her  is  nothing  lawful  nor  unlawful.  No 
tie  binds  her  soul  to  salvation.  A  fair  ship  is  she, 


MUSIC   AND   MADNESS.  285 

but  rudderless,  and  the  wind  blows  on  the  rocks.  Let 
God  save  her  if  He  will  —  and  can  !  " 

The  inspiration  of  the  Arab  improvisatore  would 
have  seemed  tame  beside  Manetho's  nervous  exalta 
tion.  Save  for  the  tingling  satire  of  the  violin-strings, 
his  rhapsody  might  easily  have  lapsed  to  madness. 
From  this  point,  however,  his  rapture  somewhat 
abated,  and  he  began  to  descend  towards  prose,  his 
music  clothing  him  downwards. 

"  As  for  me,  I  have  bowed  down  before  her,  pam 
pering  her  insolent  majesty,  preserving  her  poison  to 
rancor  first  in  her  father's  heart.  Of  him,  death  robbed 
me ;  but  the  son,  —  the  brother  is  left.  Even  death 
spared  brother  and  sister  to  each  other ! 

"  A  handsome  man !  worthy  to  stand  by  her.  Never 
fairer  couple  sprang  from  one  stem.  They  love  each 
other,  —  and  shall  love  !  —  more  than  ever  brother  and 
sister  loved  before.  But  they  shall  be  bound  by  a  tie 
so  close  that  the  mere  tie  of  blood  hangs  loose  beside 
it !  Then  shall  night  come  down  on  them,  —  a  night 
no  rising  sun  shall  ever  chase  away.  In  that  darkness 
will  I  speak  — 

This  devilish  monologue  ended  abruptly  here.  The 
faithful  instrument,  whose  responsive  sympathy  had 
never  failed  him,  jarringly  snapped  a  string  !  A  sting 
of  anguish  pricked  through  Manetho's  every  nerve. 
His  fictitious  buoyancy  evaporated  like  steam,  —  he 


286  IDOLATRY. 

barely  made  shift  to  totter  to  a  chair.  Laying  the 
violin  with  tremling  hands  on  the  table,  his  head 
dropped  on  his  arms  beside  it ;  and  there  was  a  long, 
feverish  silence. 

At  length  he  raised  his  haggard  face,  and,  supporting 
it  upon  his  hands,  he  gazed  at  the  figure  in  the  chim 
ney-corner  ;  and  began,  in  a  tone  sullen  and  devoid  of 
animation  as  November  rain,  — 

"  Why  did  you  force  yourself  upon  me  ?  —  not  for 
Gnulemah's  sake,  I  think.  Not  for  money, — you  have 
had  none.  Not  for  love  of  me  either,  I  fancy,  —  grisly 
harpy  ! 

"  Once  I  suspected  you  of  being  a  spy.  You  walked 
among  pitfalls  then  !  But  what  spy  would  sit  for 
eighteen  years  without  speech  or  movement  ?  You 
have  been  useful  too.  No  one  could  have  filled  your 
place,  —  with  your  one  eye  and  dumb  mouth ! 

"  Did  you  hate  Thor  ?  were  you  my  secret  ally 
against  him  ?  But  how  could  you  fathom  my  pur 
poses  enough  even  to  help  me  ?  And  what  wrong  has 
he  done  you  terrible  enough  for  such  revenge  as  mine  ? 
What  human  being,  except  Manetho,  could  hold  an 
unwavering  purpose  so  many  years  ?  Have  you  never 
pitied  or  relented  ?  Sometimes  I  have  almost  wavered 
myself ! 

"  What  name  and  history  have  you  buried,  and  never 
shown  me  ?  Why  have  you  spent  your  dumb  life  in 


MUSIC   AND   MADNESS.  287 

this  seclusion  ?  You  are  a  mystery,  —  yet  a  mystery 
of  my  own  making !  I  might  as  wisely  dissect  my 
violin  to  find  where  lurks  the  music.  A  mass  of  wood 
and  strings,  —  the  music  is  from  me  ! 

"  Have  you  a  thought  of  preventing  the  scheme  I 
spoke  of  to-night?"  The  Egyptian  leaned  far  across 
the  table,  the  better  to  scrutinize  the  unanswering 
woman's  face.  Her  eye  met  his  with  a  steady  intelli 
gence  that  disconcerted  him. 

"  Are  you  a  woman  ? "  he  muttered,  drawing  back, 
"  and  have  you  no  pity  on  the  children  whom  you 
nursed  in  their  infancy  ?  —  not  any  pity  !  as  implacable 
—  almost  more  implacable  than  I  ?  But  think  of  her 
beauty  and  innocence,  —  for  is  she  not  innocent  as 
yet  ?  Would  you  see  her  forever  ruined,  —  and  stretch 
forth  no  saving  hand  ? "  Nurse  moved  her  head  up 
and  down,  as  in  slow,  deliberate  assent.  Manetho, 
beholding  the  reflection  in  her  of  his  own  moral  de 
formity,  was  filled  with  abhorrence  ! 

"More  hideous  within  than  without, —  you  demon  ! 
come  to  haunt  me  and  make  me  wicked  as  yourself. 
It  was  you  snapped  the  chord  of  my  music,  —  that 
better  spirit  which  had  till  then  saved  me  from  your 
spells !  My  evil  genius  !  I  know  you  now,  though 
never  until  this  moment." 

This  madman  was  not  the  first  sinner  who,  happen 
ing  to  catch  an  outside  glimpse  of  his  interior  grime, 


288  IDOLATRY. 

has  tried  to  cheat  his  scared  conscience  by  an  outcry 
of  "  Devil ! —  devil !  "  Is  there  not  a  touch  of  pathos 
in  the  vanity  of  the  situation  ?  For  the  cry  is  in  part 
sincere ;  no  man  can  be  so  wholly  evil,  while  in  this' 
world,  as  quite  to  divorce  the  better  angel  from  his 
soul.  But  alas  !  for  the  poor  righteous  indignation. 


XXVII 

PEACE  AND   GOOD-WILL. 

BALDEE  HELWYSE,  dumfounded  before  the 
revelation  of  the  clock,  might  have  stared  him 
self  into  imbecility,  had  not  he  heard  his  name  spoken 
in  sweet  human  music,  and,  turning,  beheld  Gnulemah 
peeping  through  the  doorway  down  the  hall. 

There  was  no  great  distance  between  them,  yet  she 
seemed  immeasurable  spaces  away.  Against  the  bright 
background  of  the  conservatory  her  form  stood  dark,  the 
outlines  softened  by  semi-transparent  edges  of  drapery. 
But  the  dull  red  lamplight  lit  duskily  up  the  folds  of 
her  robe,  her  golden  ornaments,  and  the  black  tarns, 
her  eyes.  She  appeared  to  waver  between  the  light  of 
heaven  and  the  lurid  gloom  of  heaven's  opposite. 

Balder  came  hastily  towards  her,  waving  her  back. 
He  was  superstitiously  anxious  that  she  should  re 
turn  unshadowed  to  the  clear  outer  sunshine,  instead 
of  joining  him  in  this  tomb  of  dead  bones  and 
darkness.  Darkness  might  indeed  befriend  his  own 
imperfections ;  but  should  Gnulemah  be  dimmed  to 
soothe  his  vanity? 

13 


290  IDOLATRY. 

Such  emblematic  fancies  are  common  to  lovers, 
whose  ideal  passion  tends  always  to  symbolism.  But 
to  those  who  have  never  loved,  it  will  b'e  enough  to  say 
that  the  young  man  felt  an  instinctive  desire  to  spare 
Gnulemah  the  ugly  spectacle  in  the  clock,  and  was 
perhaps  not  unwilling  to  escape  from  it  himself! 

She  awaited  him,  in  the  bright  doorway,  like  an 
angel  come  to  lead  him  to  a  better  world.  "Do  not 
leave  me  any  more ! "  she  said,  putting  her  hand  in 
his.  "  You  did  not  do  the  thing  you  thought.  Let 
us  be  together,  and  dream  no  more  such  sadness ! " 

"Is  her  innocence  strong  enough  to  protect  her 
against  that  sinful  deluge  of  confession  I  poured  out 
upon  her?"  thought  Helwyse,  glancing  at  her  face. 
"Has  it  fallen  from  her  harmless,  like  water  from  a 
bird's  breast  ?  And  am  I  after  all  no  murderer  ? " 

Doubt  nor  accusation  was  in  her  eyes,  but  soft 
feminine  faith.  Her  eyes,  —  rather  than  have  lost 
the  deep  intelligence  of  their  dark  light,  Balder 
would  have  consented  to  blotting  from  heaven  its 
host  of  stars  !  Through  them  shone  on  him,  —  not 
justice,  but  the  divine  injustice  of  woman's  love ! 
That  wondrous  bond,  more  subtile  than  light,  and 
more  enduring  than  adamant,  had  leagued  her  to  him. 
Consecrated  by  the  blessing  of  her  trust,  he  must  not 
dare  distrust  himself.  If  the  past  were  blindly  wrong, 
she  was  the  God-given  clew  to  guide  him  right. 


PEACE  AND   GOOD-WILL.  291 

An  unspeakable  tenderness  melted  them  both, — 
him  for  what  he  received,  her  for  what  she  gave.  The 
rich  bud  of  their  love  bloomed  at  once  in  full,  fragrant 
stateliness.  Their  hearts,  left  unprotected  by  their 
out-opened  arms,  demanded  shelter,  and  found  it  in 
nestling  on  each  other.  Heaven  touched  earth  in  the 
tremulous,  fiery  calm  of  their  meeting  lips,  —  magnets 
whose  currents  flowed  from  the  mysterious  poles  of 
humanity. 

At  such  moments  —  the  happiest  life  counts  but 
few  —  angels  draw  near,  but  veil  their  happy  eyes. 
Spirits  of  evil  grind  their  teeth  and  frown;  and,  for 
one  awful  instant,  perceive  their  own  deformity! 

Before  yet  that  dear  embrace  had  lasted  an  eternity, 
the  man  felt  the  woman  shiver  in  his  arms.  The 
celestial  heights  and  spaces  dwindled,  the  angelic 
music  fainted.  Heaven  rolled  back  and  left  them 
alone  on  earth.  Manetho  stood  on  the  threshold  be 
tween  the  sphinxes,  wearing  such  a  smile  as  God  has 
never  doomed  us  to  see  on  a  child's  face ! 

To  few  men  comes  the  opportunity  of  facing  in 
this  life  those  whom  they  believed  they  had  put  out 
of  it.  One  might  expect  the  palpable  assurance  of 
the  victim's  survival  would  electrify  the  fancied  mur 
derer.  But  to  Balder's  mind,  his  personal  responsi 
bility  could  not  be  thus  lightened;  and  any  emotion 
of  selfish  relief  was  therefore  denied  him.  On  the 


292  IDOLATRY. 

other  hand,  such  inferences  as  he  had  been  able  to 
draw  from  things  seen  and  heard  were  not  to  Mane- 
tho's  advantage.  While  he  could  not  but  rejoice  to 
have  been  spared  actually  hurrying  a  soul  from  the 
life  of  free  will  to  an  unchangeable  eternity,  yet  his 
dominant  instinct  was  to  man  himself  for  the  hos 
tile  issues  still  to  arise.  He  looked  at  the  being 
through  whom  his  own  life  had  received  so  dark  a 
stain  with  stern,  keen  eyes. 

Gnulemah  remained  within  the  circle  of  her  lover's 
arm.  She  seemed  but  little  interested  in  Manetho's 
appearance,  save  in  so  far  as  lie  invaded  the  sanctity 
of  her  new  immortal  privilege.  She  had  never  known 
anxiety  on  his  account ;  he  had  never  appealed  to  her 
feeling  for  himself.  If  she  loved  him,  it  was  with  an 
affection  unconscious  because  untried.  She  had  shiv 
ered  in  Balder's  embrace  at  the  moment  of  the  Egyp 
tian's  presence,  but  before  having  set  eyes  on  him. 
Had  the  nearness  of  his  discordant  spirit  —  his  famil 
iar  face  unseen  —  made  her  conscious  of  an  evil  ema 
nation  from  him,  else  unperceived  ? 

Manetho,  to  do  him  justice,  assumed  anything  but 
a  hostile  attitude.  His  pleasure  at  seeing  the  pair  so 
well  affected  towards  each  other  was  plainly  mani 
fested.  He  clasped  his  hands  together,  then  extended 
them  with  a  gesture  of  benediction  and  greeting,  and 
came  forward.  His  swarthy  face,  narrowing  from  brow 


PEACE  AND   GOOD-WILL.  293 

to  chin,  if  it  could  not  be  frank  and  hearty,  at  least 
expressed  a  friendliness  which  it  had  been  ungracious 
to  mistrust. 

"  Yes,  son  of  Thor,  I  live  !  God  has  been  merciful 
to  both  of  us.  Let  one  who  knew  your  father  take 
your  hand.  Believe  that  whatever  I  have  felt  for 
him,  I  now  feel  for  you,  —  and  more  ! " 

The  speaker  had  cast  aside  the  fashionable  clothes 
which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  wearing  during  his  jour 
neys  abroad,  probably  with  a  view  to  guard  against 
being  conspicuous,  and  was  clad  in  antique  priestly 
costume.  A  curiously  figured  and  embroidered  robe 
fell  to  his  feet,  and  was  confined  at  the  waist  by  a  long 
girdle,  which  also  passed  round  his  shoulders,  after  the 
manner  of  a  Jewish  ephod.  It  invested  him  with  a 
dignity  of  presence  such  as  ordinary  garments  would 
not  have  suggested.  This,  combined  with  the  unex 
pectedly  pacific  tone  of  his  address  (its  somewhat 
fantastic  formality  suiting  well  with  that  of  his  appear 
ance),  was  not  without  effect  on  Balder.  He  gave  his 
hand  with  some  cordiality. 

"  Yours,  also  ? "  continued  the  other,  addressing 
Gnulemah  with  an  involuntary  deference  that  sur 
prised  her  lover.  She  complied,  as  a  princess  to  her 
subject.  This  incident  seemed  to  indicate  their  posi 
tion  relatively  to  each  other.  Had  the  wily  Egyptian 
played  the  slave  so  well,  as  finally  in  good  earnest  to 
have  become  one  ? 


294  IDOLATRY. 

The  three  stood  for  a  moment  joined  in  a  circle, 
through  which  what  incongruous  passions  were  circu 
lating  !  But  Gnulemah  soon  withdrew  the  hand  held 
by  Manetho,  and  sent  it  to  seek  the  one  clasped  by 
Balder.  The  priest  turned  cold,  and  stepped  back ; 
and,  after  an  appearance  of  mental  struggle,  said 
huskily,  — 

"  Hiero  is  forgotten  ;  you  are  all  for  the  stranger ! " 

"You  never  told  me  who  lived  beyond  the  wall," 
returned  Gnulemah,  with  simple  dignity ;  and  added, 
"  You  are  no  less  to  me  than  before,  but  Balder  is 
—  my  love ! "  The  last  words  came  shyly  from  her 
lips,  and  she  swayed  gently,  like  a  noble  tree,  towards 
him  she  named. 

Manetho's  lips  worked  against  each  other,  and  his 
body  twitched.  He  was  learning  the  difference  between 
theory  and  practice,  —  dream  and  fact.  His  subtle 
schemes  had  been  dramas  enacted  by  variations  of  him 
self.  No  allowance  had  been  made  for  the  working  of 
spirit  on  spirit ;  even  his  special  part  had  been  de 
signed  too  narrowly,  with  but  a  single  governing  emo 
tion,  whereas  he  already  found  himself  assailed  by  an 
anarchic  host  of  them. 

"  Gnulemah  ! "  he  cried  at  length,  "  my  study,  —  my 
thought,  —  my  purpose,  — -  body  of  my  hopes  and 
prayers ! "  He  knelt  and  bowed  himself  at  her  feet, 
in  the  Oriental  posture  of  worship,  and  went  on  with 


>PEACE   AND   GOOD-WILL.  295 

rising  passion :  — "  My  secrets  have  bloomed  in  thy 
beauty,  —  been  music  in  thy  voice,  —  darkened  in  thine 
eyes  !  0  my  flower  —  fascinating,  terrible  ! — the  time' 
is  ripe  for  the  gathering,  for  the  smelling  of  the  per 
fume,  for  the  kissing  of  the  petals  !  I  must  yield  thee 
up,  0  my  idol !  but  in  thy  hand  are  my  life  and  my 
reason,  —  yea,  Gnulemah,  thou  art  all  I  am  ! " 

The  tears,  gestures,  voice,  with  which  Manetho 
thus  delivered  himself,  shocked  the  Northern  taste  of 
Helwyse.  Through  the  semi-scriptural,  symbolic  lan 
guage,  he  fancied  lie  could  discern  a  basis  of  material 
ism  so  revolting  that  the  man  of  the  world  —  the  lover 
now  i  —  listened  with  shame  and  anger.  Here  was  a 
professed  worshipper  of  Gnulemah,  who  ascribed  to 
her  no  nobler  worth  than  to  be  the  incarnation  of  his 
own  desires  and  passions  !  It  was  abject  self-idolatry, 
thought  Balder,  masquerading  as  a  lofty  form  of  ideali 
zation. 

The  priest's  mind  was  in  a  more  complex  condition 
than  Balder  imagined.  His  absorption  in  Gnulemah, 
if  only  as  she  was  the  instrument  of  his  dominant 
purpose,  must  have  been  complete ;  the  success  (as  he 
deemed  it)  of  his  life  was  staked  on  her.  But,  in  ad 
dition  to  this,  the  unhappy  man  had,  unwittingly,  and 
with  the  vehemence  of  his  ill-ordered  nature,  grown  to 
love  the  poison-draught  brewed  for  his  enemy  !  When 
the  enemy's  lips  touched  the  cup,  did  Manetho  first 


296  IDOLATRY. 

become  aware  that  it  brimmed  with  the  brewer's  own 
life-blood  ! 

Yet  it  might  have  been  foreseen.  He  loved  her,  not 
because  she  was  identified  with  his  aims,  nor  even  be 
cause  she  was  beautiful,  but  (and  not  inconsistently 
with  his  theoretical  belief  in  her  devilislmess)  because 
she  was  pure  and  true.  Under  the  persuasion  that  he 
was  influencing  her  nature  in  a  manner  only  possible, 
if  at  all,  to  a  moral  and  physical  despot,  he  had  him 
self  been  ruled  by  her  stronger  and  loftier  spirit.  The 
transcendent  cunning  on  which  he  had  prided  himself, 
as  regarded  his  plan  of  educating  Gnulemah,  had 
amounted  to  little  more  than  imbecile  inaction. 

As  Manetho  prostrated  himself,  and  even  touched 
the  hem  of  Gnulemah's  robe  to  his  forehead,  Balder 
looked  to  see  her  recoil ;  but  she  maintained  a  com 
posure  which  argued  her  not  unused  to  such  homage. 
So  much  evil  (albeit  unintentionally)  had  the  Egyptian 
done  her,  that  she  could  suffer,  while  she  slighted,  his 
worship.  Yet,  in  the  height  of  her  proud  superior 
ity  to  him,  she  turned  with  sweet  submission  to  her 
lover,  and,  obedient  to  his  whisper,  gathered  up  her 
purple  mantle  and  passed  through  the  green  conserva 
tory  to  her  own  door,  through  which,  with  a  backward 
parting  glance  at  her  master,  she  superbly  vanished. 
Balder  had  disliked  the  scene  throughout,  yet  his  love 
was  greater  than  before.  An  awe  of  the  woman  whose 


PEACE  AND   GOOD-WILL.  297 

innate  force  could  command  a  nature  like  this  priest's 
seemed  to  give  his  passion  for  her  a  more  vigorous 
fibre. 

The  two  men  were  now  left  alone  to  come  to  what 
understanding  they  might.  Manetho  rose  to  his  feet, 
obliquely  eying  Helwyse,  and  spoke  with  the  man 
ner  and  tone  of  true  humility, — 

"  You  have  seen  me  in  my  weakness.  I  am  but  a 
broken  man,  Balder  Helwyse." 

"  We  had  better  speak  the  plain  truth  to  each  other," 
said  Balder,  after  a  pause.  "You  can  have  no  cause 
to  be  friendly  to  me.  I  cannot  extenuate  what  I  did. 
I  think  I  meant  to  kill  you." 

"You  were  not  to  blame!"  exclaimed  the  other, 
vehemently,  holding  up  his  hands.  "  You  had  to  deal 
with  a  madman  !  " 

"  It  is  a  strange  train  of  chances  has  brought  us 
together  again ;  it  ought  to  be  for  some  good  end.  I 
came  here  unawares,  and,  but  for  this  ring,  should 
not  have  known  that  we  had  met  before." 

"  I  lie  under  your  suspicion  on  more  accounts  than 
one,"  observed  Manetho,  glancing  in  the  other's  face. 
"  I  have  assumed  your  uncle's  name,  and  the  disposal 
of  his  property ;  and  I  have  concealed  his  death ;  but 
you  shall  be  satisfied  on  all  points.  The  child,  too, 
Gnulemah  !  —  I  have  kept  her  from  sight  and  knowl 
edge  of  the  world,  but  not  without  reason  and  pur- 
is* 


298  IDOLATRY. 

pose,  as  you  shall  hear.  All !  I  am  but  a  poor  broken 
man,  liable,  as  you  have  seen,  to  fits  of  madness  and 
extravagance.  You  shall  hear  everything.  And  listen, 
—  as  a  witness  that  I  shall  speak  truth,  I  will  say 
my  say  before  the  face  of  Hiero  Glyph ic  yonder,  and 
upon  the  steps  of  his  altar !  See,  I  desire  neither  to 
palliate  nor  falsify.  Shall  we  go  in  ? " 

With  some  repugnance  Helwyse  followed  the 
priestly  figure  through  the  low-browed  door.  He  had 
seen  too  much  of  men  to  allow  any  instinctive  aversion 
to  influence  him,  in  the  absence  of  logical  evidence. 
And  this  man's  words  sounded  fair ;  his  frank  admis 
sion  of  occasional  insanity  accounted  for  many  anoma 
lies.  Nevertheless,  and  apart  from  any  question  of 
personal  danger,  Balder  felt  ill  at  ease,  like  animals 
before  a  thunder-storm.  As  he  sat  down  beside  his 
companion  on  the  steps  of  the  black  altar,  and  glanced 
up  at  the  yellow  visage  that  presided  over  it,  he  tried 
to  quiet  his  mind  in  vain ;  even  the  thought  of  Gnu- 
lemah  yielded  a  vague  anxiety ! 


XXVIII. 

BETEOTHAL. 

ring,  which  Balder  had  taken  off  with  the 
intention  of  returning  it  to  its  owner,  still  re 
mained  between  his  thumb  and  finger ;  and  as  he  sat 
under  the  gloom  of  the  altar,  its  excellent  brilliancy 
caught  his  eye.  He  had  never  examined  it  minutely. 
It  was  pure  as  virtue,  and  possessed  similar  power  to 
charm  the  dusky  air  into  seven-hued  beauty.  A  foun 
tain  of  lustre  continually  welled  up  from  its  interior, 
like  an  exhaustless  spring  of  wisdom.  From  amidst 
the  strife  of  the  little  serpents  it  shone  serenely  forth, 
with  divine  assurance  of  good,  —  eternal  before  the 
battle  began,  and  immortal  after  it  should  cease.  The 
light  refreshed  the  somewhat  jaded  Helwyse,  and  dur 
ing  the  ensuing  interview  he  ever  and  anon  renewed 
the  draught. 

But  the  Egyptian  seemed  to  address  a  silent  invo 
cation  to  the  mummy.  The  anti-spiritual  kind  of 
immortality  belonging  to  mummies  may  have  been 
congenial  to  Manetho's  soul.  Awful  is  that  loneliness 
which  even  the  prospect  of  death  has  deserted,  and 


300  IDOLATRY. 

which  must  prolong  itself  throughout  a  lifeless  and 
hopeless  Forever !  If  Manetho  could  imagine  any 
bond  of  relationship  between  this  perennial  death's-head 
and  himself,  no  marvel  that  he  cherished  it  jealously. 

"  You  shall  hear  first  about  myself/'  said  the  priest ; 
"  yet,  truly,  I  know  not  how  to  begin  !  No  mind  can 
know  another,  nor  even  its  own  essential  secrets.  My 
time  has  been  full  of  visions  and  unrealities.  I  am 
the  victim  of  a  thing  which,  for  lack  of  a  better  name, 
I  call  myself  ! " 

"  Not  a  rare  sickness,"  remarked  Balder. 

"A  ghost  no  spell  can  lay!  It  grasps  the  rudder, 
and  steers  towards  gulfs  the  will  abhors.  A  crew  of 
unholy,  mutinous  impulses  fling  abroad  words  and 
thoughts  unrecognizable.  Not  Manetho  talked  in  the 
blackness  of  that  night;  but  a  devil,  to  whom  I  lis 
tened  shuddering,  unable  to  control  him ! " 

"  The  Eeverend  Manetho  Glyphic,  my  cousin  by 
adoption,  —  and  sometimes  a  devil ! "  muttered  Balder, 
musingly.  "  I  had  forgotten  him." 

People  are  more  prone  to  err  in  fancying  themselves 
righteous,  than  the  reverse ;  nevertheless,  the  course 
and  limits  of  self-deception  are  indefinite.  It  is  within 
possibility  for  a  man  to  believe  himself  wicked,  while 
his  actual  conduct  is  ridiculously  blameless,  even 
praiseworthy  !  Although  intending  to  mislead  Balder, 
Manetho's  utterances  were  true  to  a  degree  unsuspected 


BETROTHAL.  301 

by  himself.  He  was  more  true  than  had  he  tried  to 
be  so,  because  truth  lay  too  profound  for  his  recog 
nition  ! 

"A  shallower  man,"  he  resumed,  "would  bear  a 
grudge  against  the  hand  that  clutched  his  throat;  but 
I  own  no  relationship  to  the  madman  you  chastised. 
And  there  are  deep  reasons  why  I  must  set  your 
father's  son  above  all  other  men  in  my  regard." 

"  My  father  seldom  spoke  of  you,  and  never  as  of  an 
especial  friend,"  interposed  the  ingenuous  Balder. 

"  He  knew  not  my  feeling  towards  him,  nor  would 
he  have  comprehended  it.  It  is  a  thing  I  myself  can 
scarce  understand.  To  the  outward  eye  there  is  juster 
cause  for  hatred  than  for  love. 

"  I  will  speak  openly  to  you  what  has  hitherto  lain 
between  my  heart  and  God.  Before  Thor  saw  your 
mother,  I  had  loved  her.  My  life's  hope  was  to  marry 
her.  Thor  came,  —  and  my  hope  lingered  and  died. 
For  it,  was  no  resurrection."  Here  Manetho  broke  all 
at  once  into  sobs,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands; 
and  when  he  continued,  his  voice  was  softened  with 
tears. 

"  Thor  called  her  to  him,  and  she  gladly  went.  He 
stormed  and  carried  with  ease  the  fortress  which,  at 
best,  I  could  hope  only  slowly  to  undermine.  She 
loved  him  as  women  love  a  conqueror ;  she  might  have 
yielded  me,  at  most,  the  grace  of  a  condescending 


302  IDOLATKY. 

queen.  I  kept  silence :  to  whom  could  I  speak  ?  I 
had  felt  great  ambitions,  —  to  become  honored  and 
famous,  —  to  preach  the  gospel  as  it  had  not  yet  been 
preached,  —  all  ambitions  that  a  lover  may  feel.  But 
the  tree  died  for  lack  of  nourishment.  See  what  is 
left ! " 

He  opened  out  his  arms  with  a  gesture  wanting 
neither  in  pathos  nor  dignity.  Balder  could  not  but 
sympathize  with  what  he  felt  to  be  a  genuine  emotion. 

"  Amidst  the  ruins  of  my  Memphis,  I  kept  silence. 
I  hated — myself!  for  my  powerlessness  to  keep  her. 
In  my  hours  of  madness  I  hated  her  too,  and  him  ;  but 
that  was  madness  indeed  !  Deeper  down  was  a  sanity 
that  loved  him.  Since  he  had  made  my  love  his,  I 
must  love  him.  So  only  might  I  still  love  her.  The 
only  beauty  left  my  ruins  was  that ! 

"  She  died  ;  and  with  her  would  have  died  all  sanity, 
—  all  love,  but  that  her  children  kept  me  back  from 
worse  ruin  than  was  mine  already.  They  were  a  link 
to  bind  me  to  the  good.  Now  Thor  is  dead,  but  still 
his  son  —  her  son  —  survives.  Hence  is  it  that  you 
are  more  to  me  than  other  men." 

"  Did  Doctor  Glyphic  know  nothing  of  this  ? " 

"  I  never  told  him  of  either  my  hope  or  my  despair. 
My  beloved  master !  he  lived  and  died  without  sus 
picion  that  I  had  striven  to  be  a  brother  as  well  as  son 
to  him." 


BETROTHAL.  303 

"When  did  he  die  ?  " 

"  Eighteen  years  ago,"  said  Manetho,  solemnly.  "You 
are  the  first  to  whom  his  death  has  been  revealed. 
Beloved  master  !  have  I  not  obeyed  thy  will  ? "  And 
he  looked  up  to  his  master's  parchment  visage. 

"  I  discovered  his  death  for  myself,  you  know,"  ob 
served  Helwyse.  ""  But  it  could  not  have  been  more 
than  eighteen  years  since  my  father,  then  on  the  point 
of  departure  for  Europe,  saw  Hiero  Glyphic  alive  ! " 

"  Yes,  yes  !  Did  he  ever  tell  you  what  passed  in 
that  interview  ? "  demanded  Manetho,  eagerly. 

"Little  more  than  a  farewell,  I  think.  There  was 
some  talk  about  the  estate.  At  my  uncle's  death,  the 
house  was  to  come  to  you,  the  property  to  my  father  or 
his  heirs.  But  neither  expected  at  that  time  that  it 
was  to  be  their  last  meeting." 

"  Was  no  one  mentioned  beside  Thor's  children  and 
myself  ? "  asked  the  priest,  looking  askant  at  Balder  as 
he  spoke. 

"  No ;  my  uncle  neither  had  nor  expected  children, 
as  far  as  I  know  ! " 

"  Thor  did  not  see  her,  —  Gnulemah  ?  " 

"  Gnulemah  ?  —  how  should  he  have  seen  her  ? "  ex 
claimed  Balder,  in  surprise. 

"  Then  her  mystery  remains ! "  said  Manetho,  look 
ing  up. 

He  had  perhaps  doubted  whether  any  suspicion  of 


304  IDOLATRY. 

who  Gnulemali  really  was  had  found  its  way  to  the 
young  man's  mind.  The  latter's  reception  of  his 
question  reassured  him.  There  could  be"  no  risk  in 
catering  to  his  aroused  curiosity.  The  account  Mane- 
tho  now  gave  was  true,  though  falsehood  lurked  in 
the  pauses. 

"  That  day  Thor  came,  I  left  the  house  early  in  the 
morning.  It  was  night  when  I  returned;  and  Thor 
was  gone.  The  house  was  dark,  and  at  first  there 
was  no  sound.  But  presently  I  heard  the  voice  of  a 
child,  murmuring  and  babbling  baby  words.  I  passed 
through  the  outer  hall  and  the  conservatory,  and 
came  to  where  we  now  are.  The  lamp  was  burning, 
as  it  has  burned  ever  since. 

"  I  saw  him  lying  on  the  *altar  steps,  —  lying  so  ! " 
Marrying  act  to  word,  the  Egyptian  slid  down  and 
lay  prostrate  at  the  altar's  foot.  "  He  was  dead  and 
cold ! "  he  added ;  and  gave  way  to  a  shuddering  out 
burst  of  grief. 

Balder's  nerves  were  a  little  staggered  at  this  tale, 
with  its  heightening  of  dramatic  action  and  morbid 
circumstance ;  and  he  was  silent  until  the  actor  (if 
such  he  were)  was  in  some  degree  repossessed  of 
himself.  Then  he  asked, — 
"  What  of  the  child  ? " 

"I  have  named  her  Gnulemah.  She  played  about 
the  dead  body,  bright  arid  careless  as  the  flame  of 


BETROTHAL.  305 

the  lamp.  Whence  she  came  she  could  not  tell,  nor 
had  I  seen  her  before  that  day.  It  seemed  that,  at 
the  moment  my  master's  life  burned  out,  hers  flamed 
up;  and  since  that  day  it  has  lighted  and  warmed 
my  solitude." 

"  And  Doctor  Glyphic  —  " 

"I  embalmed  him!"  cried  Manetho,  clasping  his 
hands  in  grotesque  enthusiasm.  "It  was  my  privi 
lege  and  my  consolation  to  render  his  body  immortal. 
In  my  grief  I  rejoiced  at  the  opportunity  of  mani 
festing  my  devotion.  Not  the  proudest  of  the  Pha 
raohs  was  more  sumptuously  preserved  than  he  !  In 
that  labor  of  love  there  was  no  cunning  secret  of 
the  art  that  I  did  not  employ.  Night  and  day  I 
worked  alone;  and  while  he  lay  in  the  long  nitre 
bath,  I  watched  or  slept  beside  him.  Then  I  en- 
wound  him  thousand-fold  in  finest  linen  smeared  with 
fragrant  gum,  and  hid  his  beloved  form  in  the  coffin 
he  had  chosen  long  before." 

"  Did  my  uncle  choose  this  form  of  burial  ? " 

"He  lived  in  hopes  of  it!  It  was  his  wish  that 
his  body  might  be  disposed  as  became  his  name,  and 
the  passion  that  had  ruled  his  life.  Me  only  did  he 
deem  worthy  of  the  task,  and  equal  to  it.  Had  I 
died  before  him,  his  fairest  hope  would  have  been 
blighted,  his  life  a  failure  ! " 

"  A  dead  failure,  truly  !  "  muttered  Balder,  impelled 


306  IDOLATRY. 

by  the  very  grewsomeness  of  the  subject  to  jest 
about  it.  "Was  his  loftiest  aspiration  to  mummy 
and  be  mummied  ?  —  But  yours  was  a  dangerous 
office  to  fulfil,  Cousin  Manetho.  Had  the  death  got 
abroad,  you  might  have  been  suspected  of  foul  play  1 " 

"  The  cause  was  worth  the  risk,"  replied  the  other, 
sententiously. 

Helwyse  shot  a  keen  look  at  his  companion,  but 
could  discern  in  him  none  of  the  common  symptoms 
of  guilt.  The  priest,  however,  was  a  mine  of  sunless 
riddles,  one  lode  connecting  with  another ;  it  was  idle 
attempting  to  explore  them  all  at  once.  So  the  young 
man  recurred  to  that  vein  which  was  of  most  im 
mediate  interest  to  himself. 

"Have  you  no  knowledge  concerning  Gnulemah's 
origin  ? "  he  inquired. 

Manetho  laid  his  long  brown  hand  on  Balder's  arm. 

"  If  she  be  not  Gnulemah,  daughter  of  fire,  it  must 
rest  with  you  to  give  her  another  name,"  said  he. 

"  I  care  not  who  was  her  father  or  her  mother," 
rejoined  the  lover,  after  a  short  silence;  "Gnulemah 
is  herself!" 

The  lithe  fingers  on  his  arm  clutched  it  hard  for 
a  moment,  and  Manetho  averted  his  face.  When  he 
turned  again,  his  features  seemed  to  express  exulta 
tion,  mino-led  with  a  sinister  flavor  of  some  darker 


o 

emotion. 


BETROTHAL.  307 

"Son  of  Thor,  you  have  your  father's  frankness. 
Do  you  love  her  ?  " 

"You  saw  that  I  loved  her,"  returned  Balder,  his 
black  eyes  kindling  somewhat  intolerantly. 

"If  I  can  hasten  by  one  hour  the  consummation 
of  that  love,  my  life  will  have  been  worth  the  liv 


ing ! 


"  That 's  kindly  spoken !  "  exclaimed  Helwyse,  heart 
ily  ;  and,  opening  his  strong  white  hand,  he  took  the 
narrow  brown  one  into  its  grasp.  He  had  not  been 
prepared  for  so  friendly  a  profession. 

"  When  I  have  seen  your  soul  tied  to  hers  in  a 
knot  that  even  death  may  not  loosen,  —  and  if  it  be 
permitted  me  to  tie  the  knot,  I  shall  have  drained  the 
cup  of  earthly  happiness  ! "  He  spoke  with  a  delib 
erate  intensity  not  altogether  pleasant  to  the  ear.  He 
would  not  relinquish  Balder's  hand,  as  he  continued 
in  his  high-strung  vein, — 

"  I  know  at  last  for  whom  my  flower  has  bloomed. 
Through  the  world,  across  seas,  by  strange  accidents 
has  Providence  brought  you  safe  to  this  spot ;  and  has 
made  you  what  you  are,  and  her  incomparable  among 
women.  —  You  love  her  with  heart  and  soul,  Balder 
Helwyse  ? " 

"  So  that  the  world  seems  frail,  and  I  —  except  for 
my  love  —  insignificant !  " 

In  the  sudden  emphasis  of  his  question,  Manetho 


308 


IDOLATRY. 


had  risen  to  his  feet ;  and  Balder  likewise  had  started 
up,  before  giving  his  reply.  As  he  spoke  the  words 
strongly  forth,  his  swarthy  companion  seemed  to  catch 
them  in  the  air,  and  breathe  them  in.  Slowly  an 
expression  of  joy,  that  could  hardly  be  called  a  smile, 
welled  forth  from  his  long  eyes,  and  forced  its  way, 
with  dark  persistency  of  glee,  through  all  his  face. 

"  By  you  only  in  the  world  would  I  have  her  loved  ! " 
he  said ;  and  repeated  it  more  than  once. 

He  remained  a  full  minute  leaning  with  one  arm  on 

the  altar,  his  eyes  abstracted.    Then  he  said  abruptly, 

"  Why  not  be  married  soon  ?  " 

The  lover  looked  up  questioningly,  a  deep  throb  in 
his  heart. 

"Soon  —  soon!"  reiterated  Manetho.  "Love  is  a 
thing  of  moments  more  than  of  years.  I  know  it! 
Do  you  stand  idle  while  Gnulemah  awaits  you  ?  We 
may  die  to-morrow  !  " 

"I  have  no  right  to  hurry  her,"  said  Helwyse  in 
a  low  voice.  "She  knows  nothing  of  the  world.  I 
would  marry  her  to-morrow  —  " 

"  To-morrow  !  why  not  to-day  ?  Why  wait  ?  that 
she  may  learn  the  falsehoods  of  society,  — to  flirt,  dress, 
gossip,  crave  flattery  ?  Why  do  you  hesitate  ?  Speak 
out,  son  of  Thor  ! " 

"  I  have  spoken.  Do  you  doubt  me  ?  Were  it  pos 
sible,  she  should  be  my  wife  this  hour  ! " 


BETROTHAL.  309 

"  Oh  ! "  murmured  Manetho,  the  incisiveness  of  his 
manner  melting  away  as  suddenly  as  it  came ;  "  now 
have  you  proved  your  love.  You  shall  be  made  one, 
—  one  !  —  to-day.  Four-and-twenty  years  ago  this 
day,  I  married  your  parents  on  this  very  spot.  The 
anniversary  shall  become  a  double  one  ! " 

The  black  eye-sockets  of  the  mummy  stared  Balder 
in  the  face.  But  at  a  touch  from  Manetho,  he  turned, 
and  saw  Gnulemali,  bright  with  beautiful  enchantment, 
in  the  doorway. 

"  Yes,  to-day  !  "  he  said  impetuously. 

"  You  shall  wed  her  with  that  ring  !  "  whispered  the 
victorious  tempter  in  his  ear.  "  Go  to  her ;  tell  her 
what  marriage  is  !  I  will  call  you  soon." 

The  lover  went,  and  the  woman,  coming  forward, 
sweetly  met  him  half-way.  But  glancing  back  again 
before  passing  out,  Balder  saw  that  the  priest  had 
vanished  ;  and  the  lamp,  flickering  above  the  mummy's 
dry  features,  wrought  them  into  a  shadowy  semblance 
of  emotion. 


XXIX. 

A  CHAMBER  OF  THE  HEAET. 

MANETHO  neither  sank  through  the  granite 
floor,  nor  ascended  in  the  smoke  of  the  lamp. 
He  unlocked  a  door  (to  the  panels  of  which  the  clock 
was  affixed,  and  which  it  concealed)  and  let  himself 
into  liis  private  study,  a  room  scarce  seven  feet  wide, 
though  corresponding  in  length  and  height  with  the 
dimensions  of  the  outer  temple.  Books  and  papers 
were  kept  here,  and  such  other  things  of  a  private  or 
valuable  nature  as  Manetho  wished  should  be  inac 
cessible  to  outsiders.  Against  the  wall  opposite  the 
door  stood  a  heavy  mahogany  table ;  beside  it,  a  deep- 
bottomed  chair,  in  which  the  priest  now  sat  down. 

The  room  was  destitute  of  windows,  properly  so 
called.  The  walls  were  full  twenty  feet  high ;  and 
at  a  distance  of  some  sixteen  feet  from  the  floor,  a 
series  of  low  horizontal  apertures  pierced  the  masonry, 
allowing  the  light  of  heaven  to  penetrate  in  an  em 
barrassed  manner,  and  hesitatingly  to  reveal  the  inte 
rior.  Viewed  from  without,  these  narrow  slits  would 
be  mistaken  for  mere  architectural  indentations.  To 


A  CHAMBER  OF  THE  HEART.         311 

the  inhabitant  they  were  of  more  importance,  con 
tracted  though  they  were ;  and  albeit  one  could  not 
look  out  of  them,  they  served  as  ventilators,  and  to 
distinguish  between  fine  and  cloudy  weather. 

In  his  earlier  and  more  active  days,  Manetho  had 
lived  and  worked  throughout  the  whole  extent  of  this 
study,  and  it  had  been  -kept  clean  and  orderly  to  its 
remotest  corner.  But  as  years  passed,  and  the  range 
of  his  sympathies  and  activities  narrowed,  the  ends 
of  the  room  had  gradually  fallen  into  dusty  neglect, 
till  at  length  only  the  small  space  about  the  chair  and 
table  was  left  clear  and  available.  The  rest  was  im 
peded  by  books,  instruments  of  science,  and  endless 
chaotic  rubbish  ;  while  spiders  had  handed  down  their 
ever-broadening  estates  from  father  to  child,  through 
innumerable  Araneideean  generations.  A  gray  uni 
formity  had  thus  come  to  overspread  everything ;  and 
with  the  exceptions  of  a  cracked  celestial  globe,  and 
the  end  of  a  worm-eaten  old  ladder,  there  was  nothing 
to  catch  the  attention. 

Here  might  the  Egyptian  indulge  himself  in  what 
ever  extravagances  of  word  or  act  he  chose,  secure 
from  sight  or  hearing ;  and  here  had  he  spent  many  an 
hour  in  such  solitary  exercises  as  no  sane  mind  can 
conceive.  To  him  the  room  was  thick  with  associa 
tions.  Here  had  he  pursued  his  studies,  or  helped  the 
Doctor  in  his  erratic  experiments  and  research ;  here, 


312  IDOLATRY. 

with  Helen  in  his  thoughts,  he  had  shaped  out  a  career, 
—  not  all  of  Christian  humility  and  charity,  perhaps, 
but  at  least  unstained  by  positive  sin,  and  not  unmind 
ful  of  domestic  happiness.  Here,  again,  had  Salome 
visited  him,  bringing  discord  and  delight  in  equal 
parts ;  for  at  times,  with  the  strong  heat  of  youth,  he 
had  vowed  to  love  only  her  and  to  forsake  ambition ; 
and  anon  the  bloodless  counsels  of  worldly  power  and 
welfare  banished  her  with  a  curse  for  having  crossed 
is  path.  Head  and  heart  were  always  at  war  in 
Manetho.  The  talismanic  diamond  flashed  or  waned, 
and  fiercely  wriggled  the  little  fighting  serpents. 

At  length  Thor  Helwyse's  gauntlet  was  thrown  into 
the  ring ;  and  peace  —  if  still  present  to  outward  seem 
ing  —  abode  not  in  the  feverish  soul  of  the  Egyptian. 
But  it  was  his  nature  to  dissemble.  In  this  room  he 
had  often  outwatched  the  night,  chewing  the  cud  of  his 
wrongs,  invoking  vengeance  upon  the  thwarter  of  his 
hopes,  and  swearing  through  his  teeth  to  even  the 
balance  between  them.  The  black  serpent  held  the 
golden  one  helpless  in  his  coils.  The  obtuse  Doctor, 
blundering  in  at  morning,  would  find  his  adopted  son 
with  pallid  cheeks  and  glittering  eyes,  but  ever  ready 
with  a  smile  and  pleasant  greeting,  obedience  and  help. 
Hiero  Glyphic,  however  wayward  and  cross-grained, 
never  had  cause  to  censure  this  creature  of  his,  —  to  re 
mind  him  that  he  might  have  been  food  for  crocodiles. 


,   A  CHAMBER  OF  THE  HEART.          313 

Manetho's  dissimulation  was  almost  without  flaw. 
Even  Helen,  whose  fancy  had  played  with  him  at  first, 
but  who  in  time  had  indolently  yielded  to  the  fascina 
tion  exerted  over  her,  and  even  gone  so  far  as  to  permit 
his  adulation,  and  accept  in  the  ring  the  mystic  pledge 
thereof  (during  all  the  countless  ages  of  its  experience 
it  had  never  touched  woman's  hand  before),  —  even 
she,  when  her  lazy  heart  and  overbearing  spirit  were  at 
length  aroused  and  quelled  by  the  voice  rather  of  a 
master  than  suitor,  was  deceived  by  forsaken  Manetho's 
unruffled  face,  gentle  voice,  and  downcast  eyes.  She 
told  herself  that  his  love  had  never  dared  be  warmer 
than  a  kind  of  worship,  like  that  of  a  pagan  for  his 
idol,  apart  from  human  passion ;  such,  at  all  events, 
had  been  her  understanding  of  his  attentions.  As  to 
the  ring,  it  had  been  tendered  as  an  offering  at  the 
shrine  of  abstract  womanhood;  to  return  it  too  soon 
would  imply  a  supposition  of  more  personal  sentiment. 
Neither  must  Thor  see  it,  however;  his  rough  sense 
would  fail  to  appreciate  her  fine-drawn  distinction.  So 
she  concealed  it  in  her  bosom,  and  Manetho's  serpents 
were  ever  between  Thor  and  his  wife's  heart.  She 
was  false  both  to  husband  and  lover. 

Great  Thor,  meanwhile,  pitied  the  slender  Egyptian, 

and  in  a  kindly  way  despised  him,  with  his  supple 

manners,  quiet  words,  and  religious  studies.     To  the 

young  priest's  timid  yet  earnest  request  for  permission 

u 


314  IDOLATRY. 

to  pronounce  the  marriage-service  of  him  and  his  bride, 
Thor  assented  with  gruff  heartiness. 

"  Marry  us  ?  Of  course !  marry  us  as  fast  as  you 
can,  if  it  gives  you  any  pleasure,  my  friend  of  the  croco 
dile.  A  good  beginning  for  your  ministerial  career,  — 
marrying  a  couple  who  love  each  other  as  much  as  Nell 
and  I  do.  Eh,  Nellie  ?  " 

The  ceremony  over,  Manetho  had  retired  to  his 
study,  and  there  passed  the  night,  —  their  marriage- 
night  !  What  words  and  tones,  what  twistings  of  face 
and  body,  did  those  passionless  walls  see  and  hear  ? 
How  the  smooth,  studious,  submissive  priest  yearned 
for  power  to  work  his  will  for  one  day !  And  as  the 
cool,  still  morning  sheared  the  lustre  from  his  lamp- 
flame,  how  desolate  he  felt,  with  his  hatred  and  despair 
and  blaspheming  rage!  Evil  passions  are  but  poor 
company,  in  the  early  morning. 

But  was  not  Salome  left  him  ?  The  only  sincerely 
tender  words  he  had  ever  spoken  to  woman  had  been 
said  to  her:  his  humblest  and  happiest  thoughts  had 
been  born  of  their  early  acquaintance,  —  before  he  had 
raised  his  eyes  to  the  proud  and  languid  mistress.  Yet 
on  her  only  did  the.  evil  passions  of  Manetho  wreak 
themselves  in  harm  and  wrong;  her  only,  on  a  later 
day,  did  he  dastardly  strike  down.  Poor  Salome  had 
given  him  her  heart.  These  walls  had  seen  their 
meetings. 


A  CHAMBER   OF   THE  HEART.  315 

Years  afterwards,  Manetho  had  here  embalmed  his 
foster-father  :  through  long  hours  had  he  labored  at 
his  hateful  task,  with  curious  zest  and  conscientious 
ness.  As  regarded  the  strange  place  of  sepulture,  the 
Egyptian  had  perhaps  imagined  a  symbolic  fitness  in 
enclosing  his  human  immortal  in  the  empty  shell  of 
time.  Over  this  matter  of  Hiero  Glyphic's  death  and 
burial,  however,  must  ever  brood  a  cloud  of  mystery. 
Undoubtedly  Manetho  loved  the  man,  —  but  death  was 
not  always  the  worst  of  ills  in  Manetho's  philosophy. 

The  clock  had  been  affixed  to  the  study  door  both  as 
an  additional  concealment,  and  possibly  as  a  congenial 
sentry  over  the  interior  associations.  Since  then  the 
place  had  become  the  clergyman's  almost  daily  resort. 
Pacing  the  contracted  floor,  sitting  moodily  in  the 
chair,  —  many  a  brooding  hour  had  gone  over  his  bar 
renly  busy  head,  and  written  its  darkening  record  in 
his  book  of  life.  Here  had  been  schemed  that  plan  of 
revenge,  whose  insanity  the  insane  schemer  could  not 
perceive.  Nor  could  he  understand  that  mightier  pow 
ers  than  he  could  master  worked  against  him,  and  even 
used  his  efforts  to  bring  forth  contrary  results. 

But  not  all  hours  had  passed  so.  Spaces  there  had 
been  wherein  evil  counsels  had  retired  to  a  cloudy 
background,  athwart  which  had  brightened  a  rainbow, 
intangible,  whose  source  was  hidden,  but  whose  colors 
were  true  before  his  eyes.  The  grace  and  aerial  beauty 


316 


IDOLATRY. 


of  sunshine  lightened  through  the  rain,  —  the  pleasing 
loveliness  of  essential  life  was  projected  on  the  gloom 
of  evil  imaginations.  For  Manetho's  actual  deeds' were 
apt  to  be  prompted  by  far  gentler  influences  than  gov 
erned  his  theories.  The  man  was  better  than  his  mind : 
and  goodness,  perhaps,  bears  an  absolute  blessing ;  in 
somuch  that  the  sinner,  doing  ignorant  good,  yet  feels 
the  benefit  thereof ;  just  as  the  rain,  however  dismal, 
cannot  prevent  the  sun  from  making  rainbows  out 
of  it. 

On  this  particular  morning  Manetho  sank  into  his 
deep-seated  chair,  and  was  quite  still.  A  great  part  of 
what  had  hitherto  made  his  daily  life  ended  here.  The 
activity  of  existence  was  over  for  him.  Thought,  feel 
ing,  hope,  could  live  hereafter  only  as  phantoms  of 
memory.  But  to  look  back  on  evil  done  is  not  so 
pleasant  as  to  plan  it ;  the  dead  body  of  a  foe  moves  us 
in  another  way  than  his  living  hostile  -person. 

When,  therefore,  Manetho  should  have  hurled  to  its 
mark  the  long-poised  spear,  he  would  have  little  to 
look  forward  to.  That  one  moment  of  triumph  must 
repay,  both  for  what  had  been  and  was  to  come.  To 
day  of  all  his  days,  then,  must  each  sense  and  faculty 
be  in  exquisite  condition.  Unseasonably  enough,  how 
ever,  he  found  himself  in  a  perversely  dull  and  callous 
state.  Could  Providence  so  cajole  him  as  to  mar  the 
only  joyful  hour  of  his  life  !  Then  better  off  than  he 


A  CHAMBER  OF  THE  HEART.         317 

were  savages,  who  could  destroy  their  recusant  idols. 
But  nothing  short  of  spiritual  suicide  would  have  de 
stroyed  the  idol  of  Manetho  ! 

He  was  wearing  to-day  the  same  priestly  robe  which 
he  had  put  on  when,  for  the  first  and  last  time,  he  per 
formed  a  ministerial  duty.  In  this  robe  had  he  married 
Helen  to  Thor.  Itself  a  precious  relic  of  antiquity,  it 
had  once  dignified  the  shoulders  of  a  contemporary  of 
Manetho's  remotest  ancestors.  Old  Hiero  Glyphic  had 
counted  it  amongst  his  chiefest  treasures ;  and  on  his 
sister's  wedding-day  had  produced  it  from  its  reposi 
tory,  insisting  that  the  minister  should  wear  it  instead 
of  the  orthodox  sacerdotal  costume.  Since  then  it  had 
lain  untouched  till  to-day. 

Manetho  brooded  over  the  dim  magnificence  of  its 
folds,  sitting  amidst  the  cobwebbed  rubbish,  a  narrow 
glint  of  sunshine  creeping  slope-downwards  from  the 
crevice  above  his  head.  He  smoothed  the  fabric  ab 
stractedly  with  his  hand,  recalling  the  thoughts  and 
scenes  of  four-and-twenty  years  ago. 

"  I  joined  them  in  the  holy  bonds  of  matrimony,  — 
read  over  them  that  service,  those  sacred  words  heavy 
with  solemn  benediction.  Eich,  smooth,  softly  modu 
lated  was  my  voice,  missing  not  one  just  emphasis  or 
melodious  intonation.  Ah!  had  they  seen  my  soul. 
But  my  eyes  were  half  closed  like  the  crocodile's,  yet 
never  losing  sight  of  the  two  I  was  uniting  in  sio-ht  of 


313  IDOLATRY. 

God  and  man.  The  Devil  too  was  there.  He  turned 
the  blessings  my  lips  uttered  into  blighting  curses,  that 
fell  on  the  happy  couple  like  pestilential* rain ! 

"  Laughable  !  Covered  head  to  foot  with  curses,  and 
felt  them  not !  All  was  smiles,  blushes,  happiness, 
forward-looking  to  a  long,  joyful  future.  They  knelt 
before  me ;  I  uplifted  my  hands  and  invoked  the  last 
blessing,  —  the  final  curse  !  My  heart  burned,  and 
the  smoke  of  its  fire  enveloped  bride  and  groom,  foul 
ing  his  yellow  beard,  and  smirching  her  silvery  veil ; 
shutting  out  heaven  from  their  prayers,  and  blackening 
their  path  before  them.  They  neither  felt  nor  knew. 
They  kissed,  —  I  saw  their  lips  meet,  —  as  Balder  and 
Gnulemah  to-day.  Then  I  covered  my  face  and  seemed 
to  be  in  prayer  ! 

"  Gnulemah,  —  I  hate  her !  —  yes,  but  hatred  some 
times  touches  the  heart  like  love.  I  love  her!  —  to 
marry  her  ?  Woe  to  him  who  becomes  her  husband  ! 
As  a  daughter  ?  —  no  daughter  is  she  of  mine  !  —  I 
hate  her,  then. 

"  Why  am  I  childless  ?  —  how  would  I  have  loved  a 
child  !  I  would  have  left  all  else  to  love  my  child  !  I 
would  have  been  the  one  father  in  the  world  !  My  life 
should  have  been  full  of  love  as  it  has  been  of  hate. 
Why  did  not  God  send  me  a  wife  and  a  daughter  ? " 

Men's  ears  have  grown  deaf  to  any  save  the  most 
commonplace  oracles.  But  there  is  ever  a  warning 


A   CHAMBER   OF   THE   HEART.  319 

voice  for  who  will  listen.  One  may  object  that  its 
language  is  unknown,  or  its  whisper  inaudible  ;  but  to 
the  question,  "  Whence  your  ignorance  and  deafness  ? " 
what  shall  be  the  answer  ? 

In  Manetho's  case  it  appears  to  have  been  the  ven 
erable  robe  that  took  on  itself  the  task  of  remonstrance. 

"You  are  unreasonable,  friend,"  it  interposed  with-—" 
a  gentle  rustle.  "Gnulemah,  if  not  your  daughter, 
might,  however,  have  stood  you  in  place  of  one ;  and 
she  would  have  done  you  just  as  much  good,  in  the 
way  of  softening  and  elevating  your  nature,  as  though 
she  had  been  the  issue  of  your  own  loins.  You  have 
turned  the  milk  and  honey  of  your  life  into  gall  and 
wormwood  ;  and  I  wish  I  could  feel  sure  that  only  you 
would  get  the  benefit  of  it ! " 

The  reproof  had  as  well  been  spared ;  it  is  doubtful 
whether  the  culprit  heard  so  much  as  a  word  of  it. 
His  reverie  rambled  on. 

"  Keen,  —  that  Balder  !  he  half  suspects  me.  Had 
I  not  so  hurried  him  to  a  conclusion,  he  would  have 
questioned  me  too  closely.  He  shall  know  all  pres 
ently,  even  as  I  promised  him !  —  shall  hear  a  sounder 
guess  at  Gnulemah's  genealogy  than  was  made  to-day. 

"  Do  I  love  her  ?  —  only  as  the  means  to  my  end  ! 
The  end  once  gained,  I  shall  hate  her  as  I  do  him. 
But  not  yet,  —  and  therefore  must  I  love  him  as  well 
as  her.  They  shall  be,  to-day,  my  beloved  children  1 


320  IDOLATRY. 

To-morrow,  —  how  shall   I   endure  till  to-morrow, — 
all  the  night  through  ?     0  Gnulemah  !  — 

"  They  love  each  other  well,  —  seem  -made  to  make 
each  other  happy ;  yet  have  they  come  together  from 
the  ends  of  the  earth  to  be  each  other's  curse  !  Only 
if  I  keep  silence  might  it  be  otherwise,  for  love  might 
tame  the  devil  that  I  have  bred  in  Gnulemah.  Even 
now  she  seems  more  angel  than  devil !  —  Am  I  mad  ?  " 

He  straightened  himself  in  his  chair,  and  glanced 
up  towards  the  crevice  whence  slanted  the  dusty  sun 
shine.  The  old  robe  took  the  opportunity  to  deliver 
its  final  warning. 

"  Not  yet  mad  beyond  remedy,  Manetho ;  but  you 
look  up  too  seldom  at  the  sunshine,  and  brood  too 
often  over  your  own  dusty  depths.  You  have  had 
no  consciously  unselfish  thought  during  the  last  quarter 
of  a  century.  You  eat,  drink,  and  breathe  only  Mane 
tho  !  This  room  is  yours,  because  it  is  fullest  of  rub 
bish,  and  least  looks  out  upon  the  glorious  universe. 
Break  down  your  walls  !  take  broom  in  hand  without 
delay !  Proclaim  at  once  the  crime  you  meditate. 
Go  !  there  is  still  sunshine  in  this  dust-hole  of  yours, 
and  more  of  heaven  in  every  man  than  he  himself 
dreams  of.  The  sun  is  passing  to  the  other  side.  Go 
while  it  shines  ! " 

But  Manetho's  dull  ears  heard  not ;  and  the  aged 
garment  of  truth  spoke  no  more. 


XXX. 

DANDELIONS. 

IT  seems  a  pity  that,  with  all  imagination  at  our 
service,  we  should  have  to  confine  our  excur 
sions  within  so  narrow  a  domain  as  this  of  Hiero 
Glyphic's.  One  tires  of  the  best  society,  uncondi- 
mented  with  an  occasional  foreign  relish,  even  of 
doubtful  digestibility.  Barring  this,  it  only  remains 
to  relieve  somewhat  the  monotony  of  our  food,  by 
variety  in  the  modes  of  dishing  it  up. 

Balder  had  been  no  whit  disconcerted  at  the  priest's 
abrupt  e vanishment.  The  divine  sphere  of  Gnule- 
mah  had  touched  him  with  its  sweet  magnetism,  and 
he  was  sensible  of  little  beyond  it.  Their  hands 
greeted  like  life-long  friends.  Drawing  hers  within 
his  arm,  he  still  kept  hold  of  it,  and  her  rounded 
shoulder  softly  pressed  his,  as  they  loitered  out  be 
tween  the  impenetrable  sphinxes.  The  conservatory, 
however  beautiful  in  itself  and  by  association,  was 
too  small  to  hold  their  hearts  at  this  moment.  They 
passed  on,  and  through  the  columns  of  the  Moorish 
portico,  into  the  fervent  noon  sunshine. 

14* 


322  IDOLATRY. 

Grasshoppers  chirped;  fine  buzzing  flies  darted  in 
swift  circles  and  lit  again;  birds  giggled  and  gos 
siped,  bobbing  and  swinging  among  Swaying  boughs. 
Battalions  of  vast  green  trees  stood  grand  in  shadow- 
lakes  of  cooler  green,  their  myriad  leaves  twinkling 
light  and  dark.  Tender  gleams  of  river  topped  the 
enamelled  bank,  —  the  further  shore  a  slumbering  El 
Dorado.  The  trees  in  the  distant  orchard  wore  bridal 
veils,  and  even  Gnulemah's  breath  was  not  much 
sweeter  than  theirs  ! 

Emerging  arm  in  arm  on  the  enchanted  lawn,  the 
lovers  turned  southwards  up  the  winding  avenue. 
The  fragrance,  the  light  and  warmth,  the  bird  and 
insect  voices,  imperfectly  expressed  their  own  heart- 
happiness.  The  living  turf  softly  pressed  up  their 
feet.  This  was  the  fortunate  hour  that  comes  not 
twice.  Happy  those  to  whom  it  comes  at  all!  To 
live  was  such  full  bliss,  every  new  movement  over 
flowed  the  cup.  Joy  was  it  to  look  on  earth  and 
sky ;  but  to  behold  each  other  was  heaven !  More 
life  in  a  moment  such  as  this,  than  in  twenty  years 
of  scheming  more  successful  than  Manetho's. 

They  followed  the  same  path  Helen  had  walked 
the  eve  of  her  death ;  and  presently  arrived  at  the 
old  bench.  Shadow  and  sunshine  wrestled  playfully 
over  it,  while  the  green  blood  of  the  leaves  overhead 
glowed  vividly  against  the  blue.  Around  the  bench 


DANDELIONS.  323 

the  grass  grew  taller,  as  on  a  grave;  and  crisp  li 
chens,  gray  and  brown,  overspread  its  surface.  Man 
had  neglected  it  so  long  that  Nature,  overcoming  her 
diffidence  towards  his  handiwork,  had  at  length 
claimed  it  for  her  own. 

The  glade  was  full  of  great  golden  dandelions, 
whose  soft  yellow  crowns  were  almost  too  heavy  for 
the  slender  necks.  The  prince  and  princess  of  the 
fairy-tale  paused  here,  recognizing  the  spot  as  the 
most  beautiful  on  earth,  —  albeit  only  since  their 
love's  arrival.  They  seated  themselves  not  on  the 
bench,  but  on  the  yet  more  primitive  grass  beside 
it.  They  had  not  spoken  as  yet.  Balder  plucked 
some  dandelions,  and  proceeded  to  twist  them  into 
a  chain ;  and  Gnuleniah,  after  watching  him  for  a 
while,  followed  his  example. 

"  You  and  I  have  sat  on  the  grass  and  woven 
such  chains  before,"  asserted  she  at  length.  "When 
was  it  ? " 

"  I  have  n't  done  such  a  thing  since  I  was  a  child 
not  much  taller  than  a  dandelion,"  returned  Balder. 
He  was  not  ethereal  enough  to  follow  Gnuleniah  in 
her  apparently  fanciful  flight,  else  might  he  have 
lighted  on  a  discovery  to  which  all  the  good  sense 
and  logic  in  the  world  would  not  have  brought  him. 

"  Yes  ;  we  have  made  these  chains  before ! "  reit 
erated  Gnulemah,  looking  at  her  companion  in  a 


324  IDOLATRY. 

preoccupied   manner.     "They  were   to  have   chained 
us  together  forever." 

"We  should  have  made  them  of  'stronger  stuff, 
then.  But  which  of  us  broke  the  chain?" 

"They  took  us  away  from  each  other,  and  it  was 
never  finished.  Do  you  remember  nothing?" 

"The  present  is  enough  for  me,"  said  her  lover; 
and  he  finished  his  necklace  with  a  handsome  clasp 
of  blossoms,  and  threw  it  over  her  neck.  She  gave 
a  low  sigh  of  satisfaction. 

"I  have  been  waiting  for  it  ever  since  that  old 
time!  And  here  is  mine  for  you." 

Thus  adorned  by  each  other's  hands,  their  love 
seemed  greater  than  before,  and  they  laughed  from 
pure  delight.  Their  bonds  looked  fragile;  yet  it 
would  need  a  stronger  wrench  to  part  them  than 
had  they  been  cables  of  iron  or  gold,  unsustained  by 
the  subtile  might  of  love. 

"Let  us  link  them  together,"  proposed  Balder; 
and,  loosening  a  link  of  his  chain,  he  reunited  it 
inside  Gnulemah's.  "We  must  keep  together,"  he 
continued  with  a  smile,  "or  the  marriage -bonds  will 
break." 

"  Is  this  marriage,  Balder  ?  to  be  tied  together  with 
flowers  ? " 

"  One  part  of  marriage.  It  shows  the  world  that 
we  belong  only  to  each  other." 


DANDELIONS.  325 

"  How  could  they  help  knowing  that,  —  for  to  whom 
else  could  we  belong  ?  besides,  why  should  they 
know  ? " 

"  Because,"  answered  Balder  after  some  consideration, 
"the  world  is  made  in  such  a  way,  that  unless  we 
record  all  we  do  by  some  visible  symbol,  everything 
would  get  into  confusion." 

"  No,  no,"  protested  Gnulemah,  earnestly.  "  Only 
God  should  know  how  we  love.  Must  the  world  know 
our  words  and  thoughts,  and  how  we  have  sat  beneath 
these  trees  ?  —  Then  let  us  not  be  married  ! " 

They  were  leaning  side  to  side  against  the  bench, 
along  whose  edge  Balder  had  stretched  an  arm  to 
cushion  Gnulemah's  head.  As  he  turned  to  look  at 
her,  a  dash  of  sunlight  was  quivering  on  her  clear 
smooth  cheek,  and  another  ventured  to  nestle  warmly 
below  the  head  of  the  guardian  serpent  on  her  bosom, 
for  Gnulemah  and  the  sun  had  been  lovers  long  before 
Balder's  appearance.  Where  breathed  such  another 
woman  ?  From  the  low  turban  that  pressed  her  hair 
to  the  bright  sandals  on  her  fine  bronze  feet,  there  was 
no  fault,  save  her  very  uniqueness.  She  belonged  not 
to  this  era,  but  to  the  Golden  Age,  past  or  to  come. 
Could  she  ever  be  conformed  to  the  world  of  to-day  ? 
Dared  her  lover  assume  the  responsibility  of  revealing 
to  this  noble  soul  all  the  meanness,  sophistries,  little 
pleasures,  and  low  aims  of  this  imperfect  age  ?  Could 


326  IDOLATRY. 

he  change  the  world  to  suit  her  needs  ?  or  endure 
to  see  her  change  to  suit  the  world  ?  Moreover, 
changing  so  much,  might  she  not  change  towards  him  ? 
The  Balder  she  loved  was  a  grander  man  than  any  Bal 
der  knew.  Might  she  not  learn  to  abhor  the  hand 
which  should  unveil  to  her  the  Gorgon  features  of 
fallen  humanity  ?  —  Much  has  man  lost  in  losing 
Paradise  ! 

Contemplating  Gnulemah's  entrance  into  the  outer 
world,  Manetho  had  anticipated  her  ruin  from  the 
flowering  of  the  evil  seed  which  he  believed  himself 
to  have  planted  in  her.  Might  not  the  same  result 
issue  from  a  precisely  opposite  cause  ?  The  Arcadian 
fashion  in  which  the  lovers'  passion  had  ripened  must 
soon  change  forever.  It  was  perilous  to  advance,  but 
to  retreat  was  impossible.  Balder  was  at  bay  ;  had  he 
loved  Gnulemah  less,  he  would  have  regretted  Charon's 
ferry-boat.  But  his  love  was  greater  for  the  danger  and 
difficulty  wherewith  it  was  fraught.  He  could  not  sum 
mon  the  millennium  ;  well,  he  might  improve  himself. 

"If  I  could  but  shut  her  glorious  eyes  to  all  the 
shabby  littleness  they  will  have  to  see,  we  might 
hazard  the  rest,"  he  sighed  to  himself.  "  If  the  pure 
visions  of  her  maiden  years  might  veil  from  her  those 
gross  realities  of  every-day  life !  With  what  face 
shall  I  meet  her  glance  after  it  has  suffered  the  first 
shock  ? " 


DANDELIONS.  327 

Meanwhile  her  last  objection  remained  unanswered, 
and  Balder,  distrustful  of  his  capacity,  was  inspired 
to  seek  inspiration  from  her  he  would  instruct. 

"  Tell  me  how  you  love  me,  Gnulemah,"  said  he. 

She  roused  herself,  and  bending  her  face  to  his, 
breathlessly  kissed  his  lips.  Then  she  drooped  her 
warm  cheek  on  his  shoulder,  and  whispered  the  rest :  — 

"  My  love  is  to  be  near  you,  and  to  breathe  when 
you  breathe  ;  it  is  love  to  become  you,  as  water  becomes 
wave.  And  love  would  make  me  sweet  to  you,  as 
honey  and  music  and  flowers.  I  love  to  be  needed 
by  you,  as  you  need  food  and  drink  and  sleep ;  and  my 
love  will  be  loved,  as  God  loves  the  world." 

To  the  lover  these  sentences  were  tender  and  sublime 
poetry.  The  tears  came  to  his  eyes,  hearing  her  speak 
out  her  loving  soul  so  simply.  He  had  travelled 
through  the  world,  while  she  had  lived  her  life  be 
tween  a  wall  and  a  precipice.  But  not  the  noisy, 
gaudy,  gloomy  crust  which  is  fresh  to-day,  and  to 
morrow  hardens,  and  the  next  day  crumbles,  is  the 
world;  but  the  fire -globe  within:  and.  Gnulemah  was 
nearer  that  fire  than  Balder.  There  was  puissance  in 
her  simplicity,  —  in  her  ignorance  of  that  crust  which 
he  had  so  widely  studied.  Her  knowledge  was  more 
profound  than  his,  for  she  had  never  learned  to  stul 
tify  it  with  reasons. 

"  It  is  true,  —  God  only  can  know  our  love,"  said 


328  IDOLATRY. 

Balder,  and,  having  said  it,  he  felt  his  mind  clear  and 
strengthen.  For  it  is  the  acknowledgment  of  God 
that  lends  the  deepest  seeing  to  the  eye,  and  tunes  the 
universe  to  man  ;  and  Balder,  at  this  moment  of  min 
gled  love,  humility,  and  fear,  made  and  confessed  that 
supreme  discovery.  — -  "  Only  He  knows  what  our  love 
is,  but  the  marriage-rite  informs  the  world  that  He 
knows  it." 

"  But  why  must  the  world  know  ? "  persisted  Gnu- 
lemah,  still  seeming  to  shrink  at  the  idea. 

"  Because  it  is  wholesome  for  all  men  to  know  that 
we  have  made  God  party  to  our  union.  That  our  love 
may  be  pure  and  immortal,  we  must  look  through  each 
other  to  Him ;  the  acknowledgment  will  keep  others  as 
well  as  ourselves  from  misusing  love's  happiness." 

"  Then,  after  we  have  knelt  together  before  Him,  we 
shall  be  no  longer  two,  but  one  ! "  Gnulemah  spoke, 
after  some  pause,  in  a  full  tone  of  joy ;  yet  her  voice 
shrank  at  the  last,  from  the  feeling  that  she  had  pen 
etrated  all  at  once  to  a  holy  place.  A  delicious  fear 
seized  her,  and  she  clung  to  her  lover  so  that  he  could 
perceive  the  trenior  that  agitated  her. 

No  more  was  said.  Their  confidence  was  in  each 
other ;  with  Balder  at  her  side,  Gnulemah  was  fearful 
of  the  world  no  longer.  But  her  visions  were  all 
spiritual ;  even  the  kisses  on  her  lips  were  to  her  a 
sacred  miracle !  Love  makes  children  of  men  and 


DANDELIONS.  329 

women,  —  shows  them  the  wisdom  of  unreason  and  the 
value  of  soap-bubbles.  These  lovers  must  meet  the 
world,  but  the  light  and  freshness  of  the  Golden  Age 
should  accompany  them.  The  man  held  the  maiden's 
hand,  and  so  faced  the  future  with  a  smile. 

Few  as  were  the  hours  since  they  first  had  seen  each 
other,  it  seemed  as  though  they  could  hardly  know 
each  other  better ;  then  why  put  off  the  consummation 
a  single  hour  ?  Manetho  had  been  right,  and  Balder 
marvelled  at  having  required  the  spur.  He  knew  of 
no  material  hindrances ;  unlimited  resources  would  be 
his,  and  these  would  render  easier  Gnulemah's  intro 
duction  to  society.  Perhaps  (for  doubtless  Manetho 
would  desire  it)  they  might  begin  housekeeping  in  this 
very  house,  and  thus,  by  gradual  approaches,  make 
their  way  to  life's  realities,  —  vulgarly  so  called  ! 

At  this  moment,  Balder's  respect  for  wealth  was 
many  fold  greater  than  ever  it  had  been  before.  It 
should  be  the  sword  and  shield  wherewith  he  would 
protect  the  woman  of  his  heart.  Gnulemah  was  not 
of  the  kind  who  need  the  discipline  of  poverty ;  her 
beauty  and  goodness  would  be  best  nurtured  beneath 
an  affluent  sun.  Wants  and  inconveniences  would 
rather  pain  and  mystify  than  educate  her.  How  good 
was  that  God  who  had  vouchsafed  not  only  the  bless 
ing,  but  the  means  of  enjoying  it ! 

God  gave  Balder  Helwyse  opportunity  to  prove  the 


330  IDOLATRY. 

soundness  of  his  faith.  Labor  and  poverty  awaited 
him ;  what  else  and  worse  let  time  show.  In  anguish, 
fear,  and  humiliation  had  his  love  been  born,  but  the 
birth-pangs  had  been  as  brief  as  they  were  intense.  A 
brave  soul's  metal  is  more  severely  tried  by  crawling 
years  of  monotonous  effort,  discord  of  must  with  wish, 
and  secret  self-suppression  and  misgiving.  Happily 
life  is  so  ordered  that  no  blow  can  crush  unless  dealt 
from  within,  nor  is  any  sunshine  worth  having  that 
shines  only  from  without. 

Balder's  eyes  were  softer  than  their  wont,  and  there 
was  a  tender  and  sweet  expression  about  his  mouth. 
Never  had  life  been  so  inestimable  a  blessing,  —  never 
had  nature  looked  so  divinely  alive.  He  could  imagine 
nothing  gloomy  or  forbidding ;  in  darkness's  self  he 
would  have  found  germs  of  light.  His  love  was  a 
panoply  against  ill  of  mind  or  body.  He  thought  he 
perceived,  once  for  all,  the  insanity  of  selfishness  and 
sin. 

Suddenly  he  was  conscious  through  Gnulemah  of  the 
same  shiver  that  had  visited  her  in  the  conservatory 
that  morning.  Looking  round,  he  was  startled  to  see, 
beyond  the  near  benison  of  her  sumptuous  face,  the 
tall  form  of  the  Egyptian  priest.  He  was  not  a  dozen 
yards  away,  advancing  slowly  towards  them.  Balder 
sprang  up. 

"  Our   chain,  —  you    have    broken    it ! "  exclaimed 


DANDELIONS.  331 

Gnulemah.  It  was  only  a  flower  chain,  but  flowers  are 
the  bloom  and  luxury  of  life. 

Manetho  came  up  with  a  smile. 

"  Come,  my  children  !  "  said  he.  "  This  chain  would 
soon  have  faded  and  fallen  apart  of  itself,  but  the  chain 
I  will  forge  you  is  stronger  than  time  and  weightier 
than  dandelions.  Come  !  " 

Gnulemah  picked  up  the  broken  links,  and  they  fol 
lowed  him  to  the  house. 


XXXI. 

MAEEIED. 

THE  significant  part  of  most  life  histories  is  the 
record  of  a  few  detached  hours,  the  rest  being 
consequence  and  preparation.  Helwyse  had  lived  in 
constant  mental  and  physical  activity  from  childhood 
up ;  but  though  he  had  speculated  much,  and  ever 
sought  to  prove  the  truth  by  practice,  yet  he  had  failed 
to  create  adequate  emergencies,  and  was  like  an  untried 
sword,  polished  and  keen,  but  lacking  still  the  one 
stern  proof  of  use. 

Thus,  although  a  man  of  the  world,  in  a  deeper  sense 
he  was  untouched  by  it.  He  had  been  the  sentimental 
spectator  of  a  drama  wherein  some  shadow  of  himself 
seemed  to  act.  The  mimic  scenes  had  sometimes 
moved  him  to  laughter  or  to  tears,  but  he  had  never 
quite  lost  the  suspicion  of  an  unreality  under  all. 
The  best  end  had  been  —  in  a  large  sense  —  beauty. 
Beauty  of  love,  of  goodness,  of  strength,  of  wisdom,— 
beauty  of  every  kind  and  degree,  but  nothing  better ! 
Beauty  was  the  end  rather  than  the  trait  of  all  desir 
able  things.  To  have  power  was  beautiful,  and  beau- 


MARRIED.  333 

tiful  was  the  death  that  opened  the  way  to  freer  and 
wider  power.  Most  beautiful  was  Almightiness ;  yet, 
lapsing  thence,  it  was  beautiful  to  begin  the  round 
again  in  fresh,  new  forms. 

This  kind  of  spider-webs  cannot  outlast  the  suns 
and  snows.  Personal  passion  disgusts  one  with  brain- 
spun  systems  of  the  universe,  and  may  even  lead  to  a 
mistrust  of  mathematics !  One  feels  the  overwhelming 
power  of  other  than  intellectual  interests ;  and  dis 
covers  in  himself  a  hitherto  unsuspected  universe, 
profound  as  the  mystery  of  God,  where  the  cockle 
shell  of  mental  attainments  is  lost  like  an  asteroid 
in  the  abyss  of  space. 

"What  is  the  mind  ?  —  A  little  window,  through 
which  to  gaze  out  upon  the  vast  heart- world :  a  win 
dow  whose  crooked  and  clouded  pane  we  may  diligent 
ly  clean  and  enlarge  day  by  day ;  but,  too  often,  the 
deep  view  beyond  is  mistaken  for  a  picture  painted  on 
the  glass  and  limited  by  its  sash  !  Let  the  window  by 
all  means  expand  till  the  darksome  house  be  trans 
formed  to  a  crystal ,  palace !  but  shall  homage  be  paid 
the  crystal  ?  Of  what  value  were  its  transparency,  had 
God  not  built  the  heavens  and  the  earth  ?  — 

Though  Helwyse  had  failed  to  touch  the  core  of 
life,  and  to  recognize  the  awful  truth  of  its  mysteries, 
he  had  not  been  conscious  of  failure.  On  the  contrary 
he  had  become  disposed  to  the  belief  that  he  was  a 


334  IDOLATRY. 

being  apart  from  the  mass  of  men  and  above  them : 
one  who  could  see  round  and  through  human  plans 
and  passions  ;  could  even  be  separate  from  himself,  and 
yield  to  folly  with  one  hand,  while  the  other  jotted 
down  the  moral  of  the  spectacle.  He  was  calm  in 
the  conviction  that  he  could  measure  and  calculate 
the  universe,  and  draw  its  plan  in  his  commonplace 
book.  God  was  his  elder  brother,  —  himself  in  some 
distant  but  attainable  condition.  He  matched  finity 
against  the  Infinite,  and  thereby  cast  away  man's  dear 
est  hope,  —  that  of  eternal  progress  towards  the  image 
of  Divine  perfection. 

Once,  however,  the  bow  had  smitten  his  heart 
strings  with  a  new  result  of  sound,  awakening  fresh 
ideas  of  harmony.  When  Thor  was  swept  to  death 
by  that  Baltic  wave,  Balder  leapt  after  him,  hopeless 
to  save,  but  without  demur  !  The  sea  hurled  him  back 
alone.  For  many  a  month  thereafter,  strange  lights 
and  shadows  flashed  or  gloomed  across  his  sky,  and 
sounds  from  unknown  abysses  disquieted  him.  But 
all  was  not  quite  enough ;  perhaps  he  was  hewn 
from  too  stanch  materials  lightly  to  change.  Yet  the 
sudden  shock  of  his  loss  left  its  mark:  the  props  of 
self-confidence  were  a  little  unsettled ;  and  the  events 
whose  course  we  have  traced  were  therefore  able  to 
shake  them  down. 

For  Destiny  rained  her  sharpest  blows  on  Balder 


MARRIED.  335 

Helwyse  all  at  once,  and  the  attack  marks  the  turn 
ing-point  of  his  life.  She  chose  her  weapons  wisely. 
He  was  beaten  by  tactics  which  a  coarser  and  shal 
lower  nature  would  have  slighted.  He  sustained  the 
onslaught  for  the  most  part  with  outward  composure, 
—  but  bleeding  inwardly. 

His  had  been  a  vast  egoism,  rooted  in  his  nature  and 
trained  by  his  -philosophy.  It  must  die,  if  at  all, 
violently,  painfully,  and  —  in  silence.  The  truer  and 
more  constant  the  soul,  the  more  complete  the  destruc 
tion  of  its  idol.  Character  is  not  always  the  slow 
growth  of  years :  often  do  the  elements  mingle  long 
in  formless  solution;  some  sudden  jar  causes  them  to 
spring  at  once  to  the  definite  crystal.  There  had, 
hitherto,  been  a  kind  of  impersonality  about  Balder, 
having  its  ultimate  ground  in  his  blindness  to  the 
immutable  unity  of  God.  But  so  soon  as  his  eye 
became  single,  he  stood  pronounced  in  his  individu 
ality,  less  broadly  indifferent  than  of  yore,  but  organ 
ized  and  firm. 

In  this  inert  world  the  body  pursues  but  imperfectly 
the  processes  of  the  soul.  These  three  days  had  made 
small  change  in  Helwyse's  face.  His  expression  was 
less  serene  than  of  yore,  but  pithier  as  well  as  more 
joyful.  The  humorous  indifference  had  given  place 
to  a  kindlier  humanity.  Gone  was  the  glance  half 
satiric,  half  sympathetic ;  but  in  its  stead  was  some- 


336  IDOLATRY. 

thing  warmer  and  more  earnest.  For  the  charity  of 
scepticism  was  substituted  a  sentiment  less  broad,  but 
deeper  and  truer.  It  would  need  an  insight  super- 
naturally  keen  to  detect  thus  early  these  alterations 
in  the  page  of  Balder's  countenance;  but  their  germs 
are  there,  to  develop  afterwards. 

During  this  pause  in  our  narrative,  Helwyse  was 
sitting  at  his  chamber  window,  awaiting  the  summons 
to  the  ceremony.  The  afternoon  was  far  advanced, 
and  the  landscape  lay  breathless  beneath  the  golden 
burden  of  the  lavish  sun.  The  bridegroom  rose  to 
his  feet ;  surely  the  bride  must  be  ready  !  Was  that 
strange  old  Nurse  delaying  her?  Did  she  herself 
procrastinate  ?  Balder  was  waxing  impatient ! 

The  clear  outcry  of  the  hoopoe  startled  the  calm 
air,  and  that  good  little  messenger  came  fluttering  in 
haste  to  the  window.  Hound  its  neck  was  twined  a 
golden  dandelion,  —  Griulemah's  love-token!  With  a 
knowing  upturn  of  its  bright  little  eye,  the  bird  sub 
mitted  to  being  robbed  of  its  decoration ;  then  warbled 
a  keen  good-by,  and  flew  away. 

The  lover  behaved  as  foolishly  towards  the  dandelion 
as  a  lover  should.  At  last  he  drew  the  stem  through 
the  button-hole  of  his  velveteen  jacket,  and  was  ready 
to  answer  in  person  the  shy  invitation  it  conveyed. 
The  bride  waited ! 

His  hand  was  on  the  latch,  when  some  one  knocked. 


MARRIED.  337 

He  threw  open  the  door,  —  and  had  to  look  twice 
before  recognizing  Nurse.  Her  dingy  anomalous 
drapery  had  been  exchanged  for  another  sort  of  cos 
tume.  Her  scars  strove  to  be  hidden  beneath  the 
yellow  lace  and  crumpled  feathers  of  an  antique 
head-dress.  She  wore  a  satin  gown  of  an  old  fashion, 
whose  pristine  whiteness  was  much  impaired  by 
time.  An  aged  fan,  ragged,  but  of  tasteful  pattern, 
daDgled  at  her  wrist.  She  resembled  some  forgotten 
Ginevra,  reappearing  after  an  age's  seclusion  in  the 
oaken  chest.  Her  aspect  was  painfully  repellent,  the 
more  for  this  pathetic  attempt  at  good  looks.  The 
former  unlovely  garb  had  a  sort  of  fitness  to  the 
blasted  features ;  but  so  soon  as  she  forsook  that 
uncanny  harmony  and  tried  to  be  like  other  women, 
she  became  undesirably  conspicuous. 

"The  bridesmaid!"  came  to  Balder's  lips, —  but  did 
not  pass  them.  He  would  not  hurt  the  poor  creature's 
feelings  by  the  betrayal  of  surprise  or  amusement. 
She  was  a  woman,  —  and  Gnulemah  was  no  more. 
According  to  his  love  for  his  wife,  must  he  be  tender 
and  gentle  towards  her  sex. 

When,  therefore,  Nurse  gave  him  to  understand 
that  she  was  to  marshal  him  to  the  altar,  Balder,  never 
more  heroic  than  at  that  moment,  offered  her  his  arm, 
which  she  accepted  with  an  air  of  scarecrow  gentility. 
Either  the  change  of  costume  had  struck  in,  or  it  was 

15  V 


338  IDOLATEY. 

the  symbol  of  inward  change.  She  seemed  struggling 
against  her  torpor,  her  dimness  and  deadness.  She 
tried,  perhaps,  to  recall  the  day  when  that  dress  was 
first  put  on,  —  the  day  of  Helen's  marriage,  when 
Salome  had  attended  her  mistress  to  the  altar,  —  when 
she  hoped  before  many  weeks  to  stand  at  an  altar  on 
her  own  account.  —  Not  yet,  Salome,  nor  in  this  world. 
Perchance  riot  in  another;  for  they  who  maim  their 
earthly  lives  may  not  enjoy  in  heaven  the  happiness 
whose  seed  was  not  planted  here.  The  injury  is  justly 
irreparable ;  else  had  angels  been  immediately  created. 

But  Salome  was  practising  deception  on  herself. 
Airs  and  graces  which  might  have  suited  a  coquettish 
lady's-maid,  but  were  in  her  a  ghastly  absurdity,  did 
she  revive  and  perpetrate.  Struggling  to  repress  the 
ugly  truth,  she  was  in  continual  dread  of  exposure. 
Fain  would  she  dream  for  an  hour  of  youth  and  beauty, 
knowing,  yet  veiling  the  knowledge,  that  it  was  a 
dream.  Divining  her  desire,  Balder  helped  out  the 
masquerade  as  best  he  might.  She  was  thankfully 
aware  of  his  kindness,  yet  shunned  acknowledgment, 
as  a  too  bare  betrayal  of  the  cause  of  thanks. 

As  they  passed  a  cracked  cheval-glass  in  an  inter 
vening  room,  the  bridesmaid  stole  a  glance  at  her  re 
flection,  flirting  her  fan  and  giving  an  imposing  whisk 
to  the  train  of  her  gown.  Helwyse,  whom,  three  days 
before,  this  behavior  would  simply  have  amused,  felt 


MARRIED.  339 

only  pitying  sympathy  to-day.  Gnulemah  was  always 
before  him,  and  charmed  his  eyes  and  thoughts  even 
to  the  hag  on  his  arm.  He  brought  himself  to  address 
courteous  and  pleasant  remarks  to  his  companion,  and 
to  meet  unwincingly  her  one-eyed  glance ;  and  was 
as  gallant  as  though  her  pretence  had  been  truth. 

On  entering  the  conservatory,  Nurse  seemed  as 
much  agitated  as  though  she,  instead  of  Gnulemah, 
were  to  be  chief  actress  in  the  coming  ceremony. 
At  the  Sphinx  door  she  relinquished  Balder's  arm, 
and,  hurrying  across  the  conservatory,  vanished  behind 
Gnulemah's  curtain.  As  she  passed  out  of  sight  she 
threw  a  parting  glance  over  her  shoulder.  The  action 
recalled  Gnulemah's  backward  look  of  the  day  previ 
ous,  when  she  had  fled  at  the  sound  of  the  closing 
door.  What  ugly  fatality  suggested  so  fantastic  a 
parallel  between  this  creature  and  Balder's  future 
wife  ! 

He  entered  the  temple,  which  glowed  and  sparkled 
like  a  sombre  gem.  Many-colored  lamps  were  hung 
on  wires  passing  round  the  hall  from  pillar  to  massive 
pillar.  Their  glare  defined  the  strange  character  of  the 
Egyptian  architecture  and  ornament ;  nevertheless,  the 
place  looked  less  real  and  substantial  than  in  the 
morning.  It  seemed  the  impalpable  creation  of  an 
enchanter,  which  his  wand  would  anon  dissolve  into 
air  once  more  ! 


340  IDOLATRY. 

On  each  side  tlie  door  sat  a  statue  of  polished  red 
granite,  with  calm  regular  face  and  hands  on  knees. 
Helwyse,  who  had  not  observed  them  before,  fancied 
them  summoned  as  witnesses  to  the  compact  then  to 
be  solemnized.  Doubtless  they  had  witnessed  ceremo 
nies  not  less  solemn  or  imposing. 

On  the  black  marble  altar  at  the  further  end  of  the 
hall  was  burning  some  rich  incense,  whose  perfumed 
smoke,  clambering  heavily  upwards,  mingled  with  that 
of  the  lamps  beneath  the  ceiling.  On  the  polished 
floor,  in  front,  lay  a  rug  of  dark  blue  cloth,  heavily  bor 
dered  with  gold  ;  upon  it  were  represented  in  conscien 
tious  profile  a  number  of  lank-limbed  Egyptians  per 
forming  some  mystic  rite.  To  the  right  of  the  altar 
stood  the  priest  Manetho,  apparently  engaged  in  prayer. 
Balder  spoke  to  him. 

"This  is  more  like  a  tomb  than  a  wedding  hall. 
Would  not  the  conservatory  have  been  more  fitting  ? " 

"  Better  make  a  tomb  the  starting-point  of  marriage 
than  its  goal !  "  smiled  the  holy  man.  "  And  is  it  not 
well  that  your  posterity  should  begin  from  the  spot 
which  saw  the  union  that  gave  you  being  ?  and  be 
neath  the  eyes  of  him  but  for  whom  neither  this  hall 
nor  we  who  here  assemble  would  to-day  have  existed!" 
He  pointed  to  the  mummy  of  old  Hiero  Glyphic,  the 
aspect  of  which  might  have  left  a  bad  taste  in  the 
mouth  of  Joy  herself.  Balder  shrugged  his  shoulders. 


MARRIED.  341 

"  It  matters  little,  perhaps,  where  the  seed  is  sown, 
so  that  the  flower  reach  the  sunshine  at  last.  But 
your  mummy  is  an  ill-favored  wedding-guest,  whatever 
honor  we  may  owe  the  man  who  once  lived  in  it.  I 
would  not  have  Gnulemah  —  " 

"  Behold  her  1 "  interrupted  Manetho,  speaking  as 
though  a  handful  of  dust  had  suddenly  got  in  his 
throat. 

Yes,  there  she  came,  the  old  Nurse  following  her  like 
a  misshapen  shadow.  Daughter  of  sun  and  moon,  —  a 
modern  Pandora  endowed  with  the  strength  of  a  loftier 
nature  !  She  was  robed  in  creamy  white ;  her  pen 
dants  were  woven  pearls.  Fine  lines  of  virgin  gold 
gleamed  in  her  turban,  and  through  her  long  veil,  and 
along  the  folds  of  her  girdle.  But  the  serpent  necklace 
had  been  replaced  by  the  dandelion  chain  that  Balder 
had  made  her.  Her  lips  and  cheeks  were  daintily 
aflame,  and  a  tender  fire  flickered  in  her  eyes,  which 
saw  only  Balder.  She  was  a  bridal  song  such  as  had 
not  been  sung  since  Solomon. 

As  the  two  reached  the  altar,  Salome  stepped  to  one 
side,  and  Manetho's  eye  fell  upon  her ;  for  a  moment 
his  gaze  fixed,  while  a  slight  movement  undulated 
through  his  body,  as  the  wave  travels  along  the  cord. 
The  old  white  dress,  unseen  for  five-and-twenty  years  ; 
some  intangible  trick  of  motion  or  attitude  in  the 
wearer ;  the  occasion  and  circumstance  recurring  with 


342  IDOLATRY. 

such  near  similarity,  —  these  and  perhaps  other  trifles 
combined  to  recall  long-vanished  Salome.  She  had 
stood  at  that  other  Wedding,  just  where  Nurse  was  now, 

—  bright,  shapely,  sparkling-eyed,  full  of  love  for  him. 
What    a   grisly   contrast   was   this  !  —  Why  had   he 
thrown  away  that  ardent,  loving  heart  ?     How  sweet 
and   comfortable   might  life  have   been  to-day,   with 
Salome  his  wife,  and  sons  and  daughters  at  her  side, 

—  daughters  beautiful  as  Gnulemah,  sons  tall  as  Bal 
der !     But  Hatred  had  been  his  chosen  mistress,  and 
dismal  was  the  progeny  begotten  on  her !     The  preg 
nant  existence  that  might  have  been  his,  and  the  scars 
and  barrenness  which  had  actually  redounded  to  him, 
were  symbolized  in  the   remembered  Salome  and  her 
of  to-day. 

The  brief  reminiscence  passed,  leaving  Manetho  face 
to  face  with  his  sacred  duty.  With  the  warning  of  the 
past  in  his  ears  and  that  of  the  future  before  his  eyes, 
did  he  step  unrelenting  across  the  threshold  of  his 
crime  ?  At  all  events  he  neither  hesitated  nor  turned 
back.  But  there  was  no  triumph  in  his  eyes,  and  his 
tones  and  manner  were  heavy  and  mechanical;  as 
though  the  Devil  (having  brought  him  thus  far  with  his 
own  consent  and  knowledge)  had  now  to  compel  a 
frozen  soul  in  a  senseless  body  ! 

The  service  began,  none  the  less  hallowed  for  the 
lovers,  because  for  Manetho  it  was  the  solemn  perver- 


MARRIED.  343 

sion  of  a  sacred  ceremony.  His  voice  labored  through 
the  perfumed  air,  and  recoiled  in  broken  echoes  from 
gloomy  corners  and  deep-tinted  walls.  The  encircling 
lamps  glowed  in  serried  lines  of  various  light ;  the 
fantastic  incense-flame  rustled  softly  on  the  altar.  The 
four  figures  seemed  a  group  of  phantoms,  —  a  momen 
tary  rich  illusion  of  the  eye.  And  save  for  their  view 
less  souls,  what  were  they  more  ?  Earth  is  a  phantom ; 
but  what  we  cannot  grasp  is  real  and  remains  !  — 

The  rite  was  over,  the  diamond  gleamed  from  Gnule- 
mah's  finger,  and  the  priest  with  uplifted  hands  had 
bade  man  not  part  whom  God  had  united.  Husband 
and  wife  gazed  at  each  other  with  freshness  and  won 
der  in  their  eyes ;  as  having  expected  to  see  some 
change,  and  anew  delighted  at  finding  more  of  them 
selves  than  ever ! 

Male  and  female  pervades  the  universe,  and  mar 
riage  is  the  end  and  fulfilment  of  creation.  God  has 
builded  the  world  of  love  and  wisdom,  woman  and 
man ;  truly  to  live  they  must  unite,  she  yielding  her 
self  to  his  form,  he  moulding  himself  of  her  substance. 
As  love  unquickened  by  wisdom  is  barren,  and  knowl 
edge  impotent  unkindled  by  affection,  so  are  the  un 
married  lifeless. 

Ill  and  bitter  was  it,  therefore,  for  Manetho  and 
Salome,  after  the  married  ones  had  departed,  taking 
their  happiness  with  them.  The  priest's  eyes  were 


344  IDOLATRY. 

dry  and  dull,  as  he  leaned  wearily  against  the  smoking 
altar. 

"  You  did  not  speak  ! "  he  said  to  the  woman ;  "  you 
saw  her  betrayed  to  ruin  and  pollution,  and  spoke  not 
to  save  her!  —  Dumb?  the  dead  might  have  moved 
their  tongues  in  such  need  as  this!  She  will  abhor 
and  curse  me  forever!  may  you  share  her  curse 
weighted  with  mine  !  —  0  Gnulemah  ! "  — • 

Salome  cowered  and  trembled  in  her  satin  dress,  be 
neath  the  burden  of  that  heavy  anathema.  She  had 
risen  that  day  determined  to  reveal  the  secret  of  her 
life  before  night.  She  had  been  awaiting  a  favorable 
moment,  but  opportunity  or  decision  still  had  failed  her. 
Nevertheless,  another  morning  should  not  find  her  the 
same  nameless,  forsaken  creature  that  she  was  now.  — 
Manetho  had  bowed  his  face  upon  the  altar,  and  so 
remained  without  movement.  With  one  hand  fumbling 
at  the  bosom  of  her  dress  —  (the  scar  of  her  lover's 
blow  should  be  the  talisman  to  recall  his  allegiance),  — 
Salome  made  bold  to  approach  him  and  timidly  touch 
his  arm. 

"  Unhand  me  !  whatever  you  are,  —  devil !  my  time 
is  not  yet  come  ! " 

He  raised  a  threatening  arm,  with  a  gleam  of  mad 
ferocity  beneath  his  brows.  But  the  woman  did  not 
shrink ;  the  man  was  her  god,  and  she  preferred  death 
at  his  hands  to  life  without  him.  Ignorant  of  the 


MARRIED.  345 

cause  of  her  firmness,  it  seemed  to  cow  him.  He 
slunk  behind  the  altar,  hurriedly  unlocked  the  secret 
door,  and  let  himself  into  the  study.  His  haste  had 
left  the  key  in  the  lock  outside.  The  door  slammed 
together,  the  spring-bolt  caught,  and  the  swathed  head 
of  old  Hiero  Glyphic  shook  as  though  *the  cold  of 
twenty  winters  had  come  on  him  at  once. 


15* 


XXXII. 

SHUT  IN. 

LEFT  alone,  Salome  was  taken  with  a  panic ;  she 
fancied  herself  deserted  in  a  giant  tomb,  with 
dead  men  gathering  about  her.  She  herself  was  in 
truth  the  grisliest  spectre  there,  in  her  white  satin 
gown  and  feathers,  and  the  horror  of  her  hideous  face. 
But  she  took  to  flight,  and  the  key  remained  unnoticed 
in  the  lock. 

We,  however,  must  spend  an  hour  with  Manetho  in 
his  narrow  and  prison-like  retreat.  There  is  less  day 
and  more  night  between  these  high-shouldered  walls 
than  elsewhere ;  for  though  the  sun  is  scarce  below  the 
horizon,  cobwebs  seem  to  pervade  the  air,  making  the 
evening  gray  before  its  time.  Yonder  seated  figure  is 
the  nucleus  of  the  gloom.  The  room  were  less  dark 
and  oppressive,  but  for  him ! 

Does  he  mean  to  spend  the  night  here  ?  He  sits  at 
ease,  as  one  who,  having  labored  the  day  long  hard  and 
honestly,  finds  repose  at  sundown  grateful.  Such  calm 
of  mind  and  body  argues  inward  peace  —  or  paralysis  ! 

But  Manetho  has  food  for  meditation,  for  his  work 


SHUT   IN.  347 

is  still  incomplete.  Ah,  it  has  been  but  a  sour  and 
anxious  work  after  all !  when  it  is  finished,  let  death 
come,  since  Death-in-life  will  be  the  sole  alternative. 
Yet  will  death  bring  rest  to  your  weariness,  think 
you  ?  Would  not  Death's  eyes  look  kindlier  on  you,  if 
you  had  used  more  worthily  Death's  brother,  —  Life  ? 
What  would  you  give,  Manetho,  to  see  all  that  you 
have  done  undone  ?  if  to  undo  it  were  possible  ! 

One  picture  is  ever  before  you,  —  you  see  it  wherever 
you  look,  and  whether  your  eyes  be  shut  or  open,  — 
two  loving  souls,  standing  hand  in  hand  before  you 
to  be  married.  How  happy  they  look !  how  nobly 
confident  is  their  affection !  with  what  clear  freedom 
their  eyes  sound  one  another's  depths  !  Neither  cares 
to  have  a  thought  or  feeling  unshared  by  the  other.  — 
What  have  you  done,  Manetho  ?  —  shall  the  deed 
stand  ?  0  dark  and  distorted  soul  I  the  minutes  are 
slipping  fast  away,  and  you  are  slipping  with  them  to 
a  black  eternity.  Will  you  stir  hand  nor  foot  to  save 
yourself,  to  break  your  fall  ?  not  raise  your  voice,  for 
once  to  speak  the  truth  ?  Even  yet  the  truth  may 
save  !  — 

The  night  of  your  life  will  this  be,  Manetho.  Will 
you  dream  of  those  whose  few  hours  of  bliss  will  stamp 
Forever  on  the  seal  of  your  damnation  ?  Think,  — 
through  what  interminable  a3ons  the  weight  of  their 
just  curse  will  pile  itself  higher  and  heavier  on  your 


348  IDOLATRY. 

miserable  soul !  Fain  would  you  doubt  the  truth  of 
immortality  :  but  the  power  of  unbelief  is  gone ;  devil- 
like,  you  believe  and  tremble.  And  where  is  the 
reward  which  should  recompense  you  for  this  large 
outlay  ?  Does  the  honey  of  your  long-awaited  triumph 
offend  your  lips  like  gall  ?  —  Then  woe  for  him  whose 
morning  dreams  of  vengeance  become  realities  in  the 
evening !  — 

How  stands  it  between  you  and  Gnulemah,  Mane- 
tho  ?  She  has  never  loved  you  ardently,  perhaps ;  but 
how  will  you  face  her  hatred  ?  It  is  late  to  be  asking 
such  questions,  —  but  has  not  her  temperate  affection 
been  your  most  precious  possession  ?  have  you  not 
yearned  and  labored  for  it?  have  you  not  loved  her 
with  more  than  a  father's  tenderness?  Under  mask 
of  planning  her  ruin,  have  not  all  the  softer  and  better 
impulses  of  your  nature  found  exercise  and  sustenance  ? 
Conceiving  a  devil,  have  you  brought  forth  an  angel, 
and  unawares  tasted  angelic  joy? — If  this  be  true, 
Manetho,  your  guilty  purpose  towards  her  is  not  ex 
cused,  but  how  much  more  awful  becomes  the  contem 
plation  of  her  fate  !  Rouse  up  !  sluggard,  rush  forth ! 
you  may  save  her  yet.  Up !  would  you  risk  the  salva 
tion  of  three  souls  to  glut  a  meaningless  spite  ?  You 
have  been  fighting  shadows  with  a  shadow.  Up  !  —  it 
is  the  last  appeal.  — 

You  stir, — get  stiffly  to  your  feet, —  put   hand  to 


SHUT  IN.  349 

forehead,  —  stare  around.  The  twilight  has  deepened 
apace ;  only  by  glancing  upwards  can  you  distinguish 
a  definite  light.  You  are  uncertain  and  lethargic  in 
your  movements,  as  though  the  dawning  in  you  of  a 
worthy  resolution  had  impaired  the  evil  principle  of 
your  vitality.  You  are  as  a  man  nourished  on  poison, 
who  suddenly  tastes  an  antidote,  —  and  finds  it  fatal ! 

You  halt  towards  the  door  and  put  forth  a  hand  to 
open  it.  You  will  save  Gnulemah  ;  her  innocence  will 
save  her  from  the  knowledge  of  her  loss.  As  for  Bal 
der,  —  his  suffering  will  satisfy  a  reasonable  enemy. 
No  wife,  no  fortune,  the  cup  dashed  from  his  lips  just 
as  the  aroma  was  ravishing  his  nostrils  !  —  O,  enough ! 
Open  the  door,  therefore,  and  go  forth. 

In  your  magnanimity  you  feel  for  the  key,  but  it  is 
not  in  its  accustomed  place.  Try  your  pockets  ;  still 
in  vain  !  Startled,  you  turn  to  the  table,  and  feel  care 
fully  over  it  from  end  to  end.  You  raise  the  heavy 
chair  like  a  feather,  and  shake  it  bottom  downwards. 
Nothing  falls.  You  are  down  on  your  knees  groping 
affrighted  amongst  the  dust  and  rubbish  of  the  floor. 
The  key  is  lost !  You  spring  up,  —  briskly  enough 
now,  —  and  stand  with  your  long  fingers  working 
against  one  another,  trying  to  think.  That  key,— 
where  had  you  it  last  ?  — 

A  blank  whirl  is  your  memory,  —  nothing  stands 
clearly  out.  How  came  you  here  ?  With  whom  did 


350  IDOLATRY. 

you  speak  just  now  ?  What  was  said  ?  —  Two  persons 
there  seemed  to  be,  oddly  combined  in  one,  —  most 
unfamiliar  in  their  familiarity.  Or  was  it  your  evil 
genius,  Manetho  ?  who  by  devilish  artifice  has  at  this 
last  hour  shut  the  door  against  your  first  good  impulse ; 
locked  the  door  against  soul  and  body;  shut  you  in 
and  carried  off  the  key  of  your  salvation. 

Do  not  give  way  yet;  review  your  situation  care 
fully.  —  Your  voice  would  be  inaudible  through  these 
massive  walls,  were  the  listener  but  a  yard  away.  — 
Be  quick  with  your  thinking,  for  the  immitigable  min 
utes  are  dying  fast  and  forever.  —  Were  it  known  that 
you  were  here,  could  you  be  got  out  ?  No,  for  the 
secret  of  the  door  is  known  only  to  yourself.  Those 
who  once  shared  the  knowledge  with  you  are  dead,  or 
many  years  gone  !  Your  evil  genius  no  doubt  knows 
it,  and  all  your  secrets ;  but  dream  not  that  she  will 
liberate  you.  She  has  been  awaiting  this  opportunity. 
You  shall  remain  here  to-night  and  many  nights. 
Your  bones  shall  lie  gaunt  on  this  cobwebbed  floor. 
Only  the  daily  sunbeam  shall  know  of  your  tomb. 
And  Gnulemah  ?  .  .  . 

Your  knees  falter  beneath  you,  and  you  sink  in 
wretched  tears  to  the  floor,  —  tears  that  bring  no  drop 
of  comfort.  To  be  shut  up  alone  with  a  soul  like  yours, 
at  the  moment  when  the  sin  so  long  tampered  with  has 
escaped  your  control,  and  is  pitilessly  doing  its  devilish 


SHUT  IN.  351 

work  on  the  other  side  your  prison-walls,  near,  yet 
inacessible,  —  who  can  measure  the  horror  of  it  ?  Till 
now  you  have  made  your  will  the  law  of  right  and 
wrong,  and  read  your  life  by  no  higher  light  than  your 
own.  You  read  it  otherwise  to-night,  lying  here  help 
less  and  alone.  That  lost  key  has  unlocked  the  fair 
front  of  your  complacency  and  revealed  the  wizened 
deformity  behind  it.  You  have  been  insane ;  but  the 
anguish  that  would  craze  a  sane  man  clears  the  mist 
from  your  reason.  You  behold  the  truth  at  last ;  but 
as  the  drowning  man  sees  the  ship  pass  on  and  leave 
him. 

But  we  care  not  to  watch  too  curiously  the  writh- 
ings  of  your  imprisoned  soul,  Manetho ;  the  less,  be 
cause  we  doubt  whether  the  agony  will  be  of  benefit 
to  you.  Forgiveness  of  enemies  is  perhaps  beyond 
your  scope ;  even  your  rage  to  save  Gnulemah  was 
kindled  chiefly  by  your  impotence  to  do  so.  God  for 
bid  we  do  you  less  than  justice !  but  hope  seems  dim 
for  such  as  you;  nor  will  a  death-bed  repentance, 
however  sincere,  avail  to  wipe  away  the  sins  of  a 
lifetime.  Jealousy  of  Balder,  rather  than  desire  for 
Gnuelmah's  eternal  weal,  awoke  your  conscience.  For 
the  thought  of  their  spending  life  in  happy  ignorance 
of  their  true  relationship  inflames  —  does  not  allay  — 
your  agony  ! 

Your  womanish  outburst  of  despairing  tears  over,  a 


352  IDOLATRY. 

hot  fever  of  restlessness  besets  you.  The  space  is  nar 
row  for  disquiet  such  as  yours,  —  you  hunt  up  and  down 
the  strip  of  floor  like  a  caged  beast.  No  way  out,  —  no 
way  out !  —  Face  to  face  with  lingering  death,  why  not 
hasten  it  ?  No  moral  scruple  withholds  you.  Yet  will 
you  not  die  by  your  own  hand.  Through  all  your  suf 
fering  you  will  cling  to  life  and  worship  it.  Never 
will  you  open  your  arms  to  death,  —  which  seems  to 
you  no  grave,  compassionate  angel,  but  a  malignant 
fiend  lying  in  ambush  for  your  soul.  And  such  a  fiend 
will  your  death  be ;  for  to  all  men  death  is  the  reflec 
tion  of  their  life  in  the  mind's  mirror.  —  Still  to  and  fro 
you  fare,  a  moving  shadow  through  a  narrow  gloom, 
walled  in  with  stone. 

Awful  is  this  unnatural  sanity  of  intellect :  it  is  like 
the  calm  in  the  whirlwind's  centre,  where  the  waves 
run  higher  though  the  air  is  deadly  still,  and  the  surly 
mariner  wishes  the  mad  wind  back  again.  —  To  and  fro 
you  flit,  goaded  on  and  strengthened  by  untiring  an 
guish.  You  are  but  the  body  of  a  man ;  your  thought 
and  emotion  are  abroad,  haunting  the  unconscious,  hap 
py  lovers !  — 

Suddenly  you  stop  short  in  your  blind  walk,  throw 
up  your  arms,  and  break  into  an  irrepressible  chuckle. 
Has  your  brain  given  way  at  last  ?  —  No,  your  laugh  is 
the  outcome  of  a  genuine  revulsion  of  feeling,  intense 
but  legitimate.  What  is  the  cause  of  it  ?  — You  plunge 


SHUT  IN.  353 

into  the  rubbish-heap  at  one  end  of  the  room,  and 
grasp  and  draw  forth  the  rickety  old  ladder  which  has 
been  lying  there  these  twenty  years.  You  have  seen 
it  almost  daily,  poking  out  amidst  the  cobwebs,  and 
probably  for  that  very  reason  have  so  long  failed  to 
perceive  that  it  was  susceptible  of  a  better  use  than  to 
be  food  for  worms.  You  set  it  upright  against  the 
wall ;  its  top  round  falls  three  feet  below  the  horizontal 
aperture.  Enough,  if  you  tread  with  care.  Narrow, 
steep,  and  rickety  is  the  path  to  deliverance ;  but  up ! 
for  your  time  is  short. 

Upward,  with  cautious  eagerness !  The  ladder  is 
warped  and  rests  unevenly,  and  once  or  twice  a  round 
cracks  beneath  the  down-pressing  foot ;  the  thing  is  all 
unsound  and  might  fall  to  pieces  at  any  moment. 
However,  the  top  is  gained,  and  your  nervous  hands 
are  on  the  sill  at  last.  Raising  yourself  a  little  higher, 
you  look  forth  on  the  world  once  more. 

Not  so  late  after  all !  Red  still  lingers  along  the 
western  horizon,  but  against  it  is  mounting  and  ex 
panding  a  black  cloud,  glancing  ever  and  anon  with 
dangerous  lightning.  In  a  clear  sky-lake  above  the 
cloud,  steadily  burns  a  planet.  The  gentle  twilight 
rests  lovingly  on  earth's  warm  bosom  — 

Hark  !  look  !  what  moves  yonder  beneath  the 
trees  ?  — 

Your  parched,  eager  face  strained  forwards,  your  him- 


354  IDOLATRY. 

gry  eyes  eating  through  the  gloom,  —  see  emerge  from 
the  avenue  two  figures,  sauntering  lover-like  side  to 
side  !  How  forgetful  of  the  world  they  seem  ]  Little 
think  they  of  you,  of  the  rack  on  which  you  have  been 
outstretched.  But  their  hour  has  come.  This  mo 
ment  shall  be  their  last  of  peace,  —  their  last  of  happy 

love. 

***** 

—  What  sound  was  that  ?  —  Was  it  a  yell  of  tri 
umph,  —  a  shout  for  help,  —  a  scream  of  terror  ?  —  It 
does  not  come  again ;  but  the  silence  is  more  terrible 
than  the  cry. 


XXXII. 

THE  BLACK  CLOUD. 

"  "T    FIEEO,  —  it  was  his  voice  I  "  said  Gnulemah. 

_J — L_  She  looked  in  her  lover's  face,  trusting  to 
his  wisdom  and  strength.  She  rested  her  courage  on 
his,  but  her  eyes  stirred  him  like  a  trumpet-call.  The 
burden  of  that  cry  had  been  calamity.  Love  is  protean, 
—  makes  but  a  step  from  dalliance  to  grandeur.  Bal 
der,  no  longer  a  sentimental  bridegroom,  stood  forth 
ready,  brief,  energetic,  —  but  more  a  lover  than  before  ! 

The  voice  had  at  the  first  moment  sounded  start- 
lingly  clear,  then  it  had  seemed  distant  and  muffled. 
As  Helwyse  swiftly  skirted  the  granite  wall  of  the 
temple,  his  mind  was  busy  with  conjecture ;  but  he 
failed  to  hit  upon  any  reasonable  explanation.  The 
cry  had  come  from  the  direction  of  the  temple,  and 
had  he  known  of  the  existence  of  the  apertures  through 
the  masonry,  he  might  partly  have  solved  the  mystery. 
As  it  was,  he  thought  only  of  getting  inside,  feeling 
sure  that,  explainably  or  not,  Manetho  must  be  there. 

In  the  oaken  hall  he  met  Nurse,  who  had  also  heard 
the  cry,  but  knew  not  whence  it  proceeded. 


356  IDOLATRY. 

"  In  the  temple,  I  think,"  said  Helwyse,  answering 
her  agitated  gesture. 

The  clew  was  sufficient ;  she  sped  along  towards  the 
door  whence  she  had  so  lately  fled  panic-stricken, 
Helwyse  following.  Beneath  the  solemn  excitement 
and  perplexity,  lay  warm  and  secure  in  his  heart  the 
thought  of  Gnulemah,  —  his  wife.  Blessed  thought ! 
which  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time  should  make  but 
more  tenderly  dear  and  precious. 

As  he  breathed  the  incense-laden  air  of  the  temple, 
Balder's  face  grew  stern.  At  each  step  he  thought  to 
see  death  in  some  ghastly  form.  In  the  joy  of  this  his 
marriage  night  he  had  wished  all  the  world  might  have 
rejoiced  with  him ;  but  already  was  calamity  abroad. 
Birth  and  death,  love  and  hate,  happiness  and  woe, 
are  borne  on  every  human  breath,  and  mingled  with 
daily  meat  and  drink.  So  be  it !  —  They  were  paro 
dies  of  humanity  who  should  live  on  a  purer  diet  or 
inhale  a  rarer  atmosphere. 

All  the  lights  in  the  great  hall,  except  the  altar- 
lamp,  were  burnt  out,  and  the  place  was  very  dusky. 
Nurse  went  straight  towards  the  secret  door,  looking 
neither  to  the  right  nor  left ;  while  Helwyse,  who  did 
not  suspect  its  existence,  was  prying  into  each  dark 
nook  and  corner.  An  inarticulate  exclamation  from 
the  woman  arrested  him.  She  was  standing  behind 
the  altar,  close  to  the  clock.  As  he  approached  she 


THE   BLACK   CLOUD.  357 

pointed  to  the  wall.  She  had  found  the  key  in  the 
lock,  but  dared  not  be  first  to  brave  the  sight  of  what 
might  be  within.  She  appealed  to  the  strength  of  the 
man,  yet  with  a  morbid  jealousy  of  his  precedence. 

Helywse  saw  the  key,  and,  turning  it,  the  seeming- 
solid  wall  disclosed  a  door,  opening  outwards,  a  single 
slab  of  massive  granite.  Within  all  was  dark,  and 
there  was  no  sound.  Was  anything  there  ? 

He  looked  round  to  address  Nurse,  but  her  appear 
ance  checked  him.  She  was  staring  into  the  darkness  ; 
he  could  feel  her  one-eyed  glance  pass  him,  fastening 
on  something  beyond.  He  moved  to  let  the  lamp 
light  enter  the  doorway  ;  and  then  in  the  illuminated 
square  that  fell  on  the  floor  he  saw  Manetho's  upturned 
face.  The  fallen  priest  lay  with  one  arm  doubled 
under  him,  the  other  thrown  across  his  breast.  Nurse 
stared  at  her  broken  idol,  motionless,  with  stertorous 
breathing. 

But  was  Manetho  dead  ?  Helwyse,  the  physician, 
stepped  across  the  threshold,  and  stooped  to  examine 
the  body.  The  dumb  creature  followed  and  lay  down, 
animal-like,  close  beside  the  deity  of  her  worship. 
Presently  the  physician  said,  — 

"  There  's  life  in  him,  but  he  's  hurt  internally.  We 
must  find  a  way  to  move  him  from  here." 

"  Life  !  "  —  the  woman  heard,  nor  cared  for  more. 
Her  dry  fixedness  gave  way  with  a  gasp,  and  she 


358  IDOLATRY. 

broke  into  hysteric  tears,  rocking  herself  backwards 
and  forwards,  crooning  over  the  insensible  body,  or 
stooping  to  kiss  it.  She  had  no  sense  nor  heed  save 
for  the  lover  of  her  youth. 

"  Could  such  a  creature  have  been  his  wife  ?  or 
even  his  mistress  ? "  questioned  Helwyse  of  himself. 
But  he  spoke  out  sharply  :  — 

"  You  must  stop  this.  He  must  be  revived  at  once. 
Go  and  make  ready  a  bed,  and  I  will  carry  him  to  it." 

As  he  spoke,  a  silent  shadow  fell  across  the  body, 
and  Gnulemah  stood  in  the  doorway.  Balder's  first 
impulse  was  to  motion  her  away  from  a  spectacle  so 
unsuited  to  her  eyes.  But  though  the  shadow  made 
her  face  inscrutable,  the  lines  of  her  figure  spoke,— 
and  not  of  weak  timidity  or  effeminate  consternation. 
Womanly  she  was,  —  instinct  with  that  tender,  sensi 
tive  power,  the  marvellous  gift  of  God  to  woman  only, 
which  almost  moves  the  sick  man  to  bless  his  sickness. 
A  holy  gift,  —  surely  the  immediate  influx  of  Christ's 
spirit.  Man  knows  it  not,  albeit  when  he  and  woman 
have  become  more  closely  united  than  now,  he  may 
attain  to  share  the  Divine  prerogative.  Study  nor 
skill  can  counterfeit  it ;  but  in  the  true  woman  it  is 
perfect  at  the  first  appeal  as  at  the  last. 

"He  shall  have  my  bed,"  said  this  young  goddess 
Isis  ;  "  it  is  ready,  and  my  lamp  is  burning." 

Balder  stooped  to  uplift  his  insensible  burden. 


THE   BLACK   CLOUD.  359 

"0,  not  so! — more  tenderly  than  that,"  she  inter 
posed,  softly.  A  moment's  hesitation,  and  then  she 
unfastened  the  golden  shoulder-clasp,  and  shook  off 
her  ample  mantle.  This  was  Manetho's  litter. 

"  I  will  help  you  carry  him.  —  Why  do  you  weep, 
Nurse  ?  he  will  awake,  or  Balder  would  have  told  us." 

Never,  since  Diana  stooped  to  earth  to  love  En- 
dymion,  was  seen  a  nobler  sight  than  Gnulemah  in  her 
simple,  clinging  tunic,  whose  heavy  golden  hem  kissed 
her  polished  knee,  while  her  round  and  clear-cut  arms 
were  left  bare.  After  the  first  glance,  her  lover  lowered 
his  eyes,  lest  he  should  forget  all  else  in  gazing  at  her. 
But  the  blood  mounted  silently  to  his  cheeks  and 
burned  there.  As  for  her,  —  she  trusted  Balder  more 
freely  than  herself. 

Manetho  was  laid  gently  on  the  broad  robe,  and  so 
upraised  and  borne  forwards  ;  Balder  at  the  head,  Gnu 
lemah  at  the  foot.  Heavy,  heavy  is  a  lifeless  body; 
but  the  man  had  cause  to  wonder  at  the  woman's  fresh 
and  easy  strength.  What  a  contrast  was  she  to  the 
disfigured  creature  who  hobbled  moaning  beside  the 
litter,  the  relaxed  hand  clutched  in  both  hers,  kissing 
it  again  and  again  with  grotesque  passion !  Yet  both 
were  women,  and  loved  as  women  love. 

The  granite  statues  sitting  serene  at  the  doorway 
maintained  the  stony  calm  which,  only,  deserves  the 
name  of  supernatural.  These  passed,  the  flowery  heat 


360  IDOLATRY. 

of  the  dim  conservatory  brought  them  to  Grmlemah's 
room.  The  curtain  was  looped  up  and  the  passage 
clear.  Thus  first  did  the  wedded  pa'ir  enter  what 
should  have  been  their  bridal  chamber,  and  laid  the 
lifeless  body  on  the  nuptial  bed. 

A  fair,  pure  room ;  the  clear  walls  frescoed  with 
graceful  wreaths  of  floating  figures.  In  the  eastern 
window,  through  which  the  earliest  sunbeams  loved  to 
fall,  stood  an  alabaster  altar;  on  it  a  chain  of  faded 
dandelions.  The  bed  was  a  lovely  nest,  the  lines  flow 
ing  in  long  curves,  —  a  barge  of  Venus  for  lovers  to 
voyage  to  heaven  in.  On  a  table  near  at  hand  lay 
some  embroidered  work  at  which  Gnulemah's  magic 
needle  had  been  busy  of  late.  Balder  glanced  at  these 
things  with  a  reverence  almost  timid ;  and,  turning 
back  to  what  lay  so  inert  and  doltish  on  the  sacred 
bed,  he  could  not  but  sigh. 

Every  means  was  employed  to  rally  the  Egyptian 
from  his  swoon.  He  bore  no  external  marks  of  injury, 
but  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  he  had  sustained  a 
terrible  shock,  and  possibly  concussion  of  the  brain ; 
the  amount  of  the  internal  damages  could  not  yet  be 
estimated.  —  Meanwhile  the  black  cloud  from  the  west 
was  muttering  drowsily  overhead,  and  an  occasional 
lightning-flash  dulled  the  mild  radiance  of  the  lamp. 
As  consciousness  ebbed  back  to  the  patient,  the  storm 
increased,  and  the  trembling  roll  of  heavy  thunder 


THE   BLACK   CLOUD.  351 

drowned  the  first  gasps  of  returning  life.  Had  that 
vast  cloud  come  to  shut  out  his  soul  from  heaven,  and 
was  its  mighty  voice  uttering  the  sentence  of  his  con 
demnation  ?  The  air  was  thick  with  the  inconsolable 
weeping  of  the  rain,  and  gusty  sighs  of  wind  drove  its 
cold  tear-drops  against  the  window. 

How  was  it  with  Manetho  ?  —  During  the  instant 
after  the  ladder  had  given  way  and  he  was  rushing 
through  the  air  and  clutching  vainly  at  the  dark  void, 
every  faculty  had  violently  expanded,  so  that  he  seemed 
to  see  and  think  at  every  pore.  The  next  instant  his 
rudely  battered  body  refused  to  bear  the  soul's  mes 
sages  ;  light  and  knowledge  sank  into  bottomless  dark: 
ness. 

By.  and  by  — for  aught  he  knew  it  might  have  been 
an  eternity— a  brief  gleam  divided  the  night;  then 
another,  and  others ;  he  seemed  to  be  moving  through 
air,  upborne  on  a  cloud.  He  strove  to  open  his  eyes, 
and  caught  a  glimpse  of  reeling  walls,  —  of  a  figure,  — 
figures.  A  deep  rumbling  sound  was  in  his  ears,  as  of 
the  rolling  together  of  chaotic  rocks,  gradually  subsiding 
into  stillness. 

He  felt  no  pain,  only  dreamy  ease.  He  was  resting 
softly  on  a  bank  of  flowers,  in  the  heart  of  a  summer's 
day.  He  was  filled  with  peace  and  love,  and  peace  and 
love  were  around  him.  Some  one  was  nestling  beside 
him;  was  it  not  the  woman,  — the  bright-eyed,  smil- 


362  .    IDOLATRY. 

ing  gypsy  with  whom  he  had  plighted  troth  ?  —  surely 
it  was  she. 

"  Salome,  —  Salome,  are  you  here  ?  Touch  me,  —  lay 
your  cheek  by  mine.  So,  —  give  me  your  hand.  I  love 
you,  my  pretty  pet,  — your  Manetho  loves  you  !  " 

The  slow  sentences  ended.  Nurse  had  laid  her 
unsightly  head  beside  his  on  the  pillow,  and  the  two 
were  happy  in  each  other.  0  piteous,  revolting,  sol 
emn  sight !  Those  faces,  grief-smitten,  old ;  long  ago, 
in  passionate  and  lawless  youth,  they  had  perchance 
lain  thus  and  murmured  loving  words.  And  now  for 
a  moment  they  met  and  loved  again,  —  while  death 
knocked  at  their  chamber  door ! 

But  Balder  had  perceived  a  startling  significance  in 
Manetho's  words.  He  took  Gnulenmh  by  the  hand  and 
led  her  to  the  eastern  window.  A  flash  greeted  them, 
creating  a  momentary  world,  which  started  from  the 
womb  of  night,  and  vanished  again  before  one  could 
say  "  It  is  there  ! "  Then  followed  a  long-drawn,  in 
termittent  rumble,  as  if  the  fragments  of  the  spectre 
world  were  tumbling  avalanche-wise  into  chaos. 

"  I  remember  now  about  the  dandelions,"  Balder  said. 
"  Was  not  Nurse  with  us  then  ? " 

"Yes,"  answered  Gnulemah;  "and  it  was  she  and 
Hiero  who  took  me  from  you.  But  why  does  he  call 
her  Salome  ?  and  whs  is  Manetho  ?  " 

Balder  did  not  reply.     He  leant  against  the  window- 


THE  BLACK   CLOUD. 

frame  and  gazed  out  into  the  black  storm.  Knowing 
what  he  now  did,  it  required  no  great  stretch  of  inge 
nuity  to  unravel  Manetho's  secret.  —  He  turned  to 
Gnulemah,  and,  taking  her  in  his  arms,  kissed  her  with 
a  defiant  kind  of  ardor. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  she  whispered,  clinging  to  him  with 
a  reflex  of  his  own  unspoken  emotion. 

"  We  are  safe  !  —  But  that  man  shall  not  die  with 
out  hearing  the  truth,"  he  added,  sternly. 

Again  there  was  a  dazzling  lightning-flash,  and  the 
thunder  seemed  to  break  at  their  very  ears.  By  a 
quick,  sinuous  movement,  Gnulemah  freed  herself  from 
his  arm  and  looked  at  him  with  her  grand  eyes,  —  night- 
black,  lit  each  with  a  sparkling  star.  Her  feminine 
intuition  perceived  a  change  in  him,  though  she  could 
not  fathom  its  cause.  It  jarred  the  fineness  of  their 
mutual  harmony. 

"  Our  happiness  should  make  others'  greater,"  said 
she. 

He  looked  into  her  eyes  with  a  gaze  so  ardent  that 
their  lids  drooped ;  and  the  tone  of  his  answer,  though 
lover-like,  had  more  of  masculine  authority  in  it  than 
she  had  yet  heard  from  him. 

"  My  darling,  you  do  not  know  what  wrong  he  has 
done  you  —  and  others.  It  is  only  justice  that  he 
should  learn  how  God  punishes  such  as  he ! " 

"  Will  not  God  teach  him  ? "  said  Gnulemah,  trern- 


364  IDOLATRY. 

bling  to  oppose  the  man  she  loved,  yet  by  love  com 
pelled  to  do  so. 

Balder  paused,  and  looked  towards  the  bed.  There 
was  a  flickering  smile  on  Manetho's  face ;  he  seemed  to 
be  reviving.  His  injuries  were  perhaps  not  fatal  after 
all.  Should  he  recover,  he  must  sooner  or  later  receive 
his  so-called  punishment;  meanwhile,  Balder  was  in 
clined  to  regard  himself  as  the  chosen  minister  of  Divine 
justice.  Why  not  speak  now  ? 

This  was  the  second  occasion  that  he  had  held 
Manetho  in  his  power,  at  a  time  when  the  Egyptian 
had  been  attempting  his  destruction.  In  the  previous 
encounter  he  had  retaliated  in  kind.  Would  the  bitter 
issue  of  that  self-indulgence  not  make  him  wary  now  ? 
Here  was  again  the  murderous  lust  of  power,  albeit 
disguised  as  love  of  justice.  Had  Balder's  penitent 
suffering  failed  to  teach  him  the  truth  of  human  broth 
erhood,  and  equality  before  God?  Love,  typified  by 
Gnulemah,  would  fain  dissuade  him  from  his  purpose : 
but  love  (as  often  happens  when  it  stands  in  the  way 
of  harsh  and  ignoble  impulses)  appeared  foolishly  mer 
ciful. 

Once  again  his  glance  met  Gnulemah's,  —  lingered  a 
moment,  —  and  then  turned  away.  It  was  for  the  last 
time.  At  that  moment  he  was  less  noble  than  ever  be 
fore.  But  the  expression  of  her  eyes  he  never  forgot ; 
the  love,  the  entreaty,  the  grandeur,  —  the  sorrow  !  — 


THE   BLACK   CLOUD.  365 

He  turned  away  and  approached  the  bedside,  while 
Giralemah  went  to  kneel  at  her  maiden  altar.  Mane- 
tlio's  eyes  were  closed ;  his  features  wore  a  singularly 
childlike  expression.  In  truth,  he  was  but  half  him 
self  ;  the  shock  he  had  sustained  had  paralyzed  one  part 
of  his  nature.  The  subtle,  evil-plotting  Egyptian  was 
dormant ;  his  brain  interpreted  nothing  save  the  mes 
sages  of  the  heart ;  only  the  affectionate,  ^motional 
Manetho  was  awake.  The  evil  he  had  done  and  the 
misery  of  it  were  forgotten.  —  All  this  Balder  divined ; 
yet  his  assumption  of  godlike  censorship  would  not 
permit  him  to  relent.  It  is  when  man  deems  himself 
most  secure  that  he  falls,  in  a  worse  way  than  ever. 

"  Do  you  know  me,  Manetho  ?  "  demanded  the  young 
man. 

The  priest  opened  his  eyes  dreamily,  and  smiled,  but 
made  no  further  answer. 

"  I  am  Balder  Helwyse,  —  the  son  of  Thor,"  contin 
ued  the  other,  speaking  with  incisive  deliberation,  the 
better  to  touch  the  stunned  man's  apprehension.  "  I 
once  had  a  twin  sister.  You  believe  that  Gnulemah  is 
she." 

The  priest's  features  were  getting  a  bewildered,  plain 
tive  expression.  Either  he  was  beginning  to  compre 
hend  the  purport  of  Balder's  words,  or  else  the  stern 
ness  of  the  hitter's  tone  and  glance  agitated  him. 

Balder  concentrated  all  his  force  into  the  utterance 


366  IDOLATRY. 

of  the  final  sentences,  vowing  to  himself  that  his  fallen 
enemy  should  understand !  Did  he  think  of  Gnule- 
mah  then  ?  or  of  Salome  —  partly  for  whose  sake,  as 
he  feigned,  he  had  assumed  the  scourge  ?< 

"  My  sister  died,  —  was  burned  to  death  before  she 
was  a  year  old.  In  trying  to  save  her,  the  nurse  al 
most  lost  her  own  life.  On  that  same  night,  this  nurse 
gave  birth  to  a  daughter,  —  whose  name  you  have 
called  Gimlemah.  Salome  is  her  mother.  "Who  her 
father  is,  Manetho,  you  best  know  !" 

The  words  were  spoken,  —  but  had  the  culprit  heard 
them  ?  Salome  (who  from  the  first  had  shrunk  back 
to  the  head  of  the  bed,  beyond  the  possible  range  of 
Manetho's  vision)  burst  into  confused  hysteric  cries. 
Gnulemah  had  risen  from  her  altar  and  was  looking  at 
Balder :  he  felt  her  glance,  —  but  though  he  told  him 
self  that  he  had  done  but  justice,  he  dared  not  meet 
it !  —  He  kept  his  eyes  fastened  on  the  pallid  counte 
nance  of  the  Egyptian.  The  latter's  breath  came  feebly 
and  irregularly,  but  the  anxious  expression  was  gone, 
and  there  was  again  the  flickering  smile.  All  at  once 
there  was  an  odd,  solemn  change.  — 

The  man  was  dying.  Balder  saw  it,  —  saw  that  his 
enemy  was  escaping  him  unpunished !  There  yet  re 
mained  one  stimulant  that  might  rouse  him,  and  in  the 
passion  of  the  moment  this  self-appointed  .lieutenant 
of  the  Almighty  applied  it. 


THE   BLACK   CLOUD.  367 

"  Come  forward  here,  Salome  ! "  cried  he  ;  "  let  him 
look  on  the  face  that  his  sins  have  given  you.  As 
there  is  a  God  in  Heaven,  your  wrongs  shall  be  set 
right ! " 

Salome  moved  to  obey ;  but  Gnulemah  glided  swiftly 
up  and  held  her  back.  Balder  stepped  imperiously 
forward  to  enforce  his  will.  Had  he  but  answered 
his  wife's  eyes  even  then  !  —  He  came  forward  one 
step. 

Then  burst  a  thunder-clap  like  the  crashing  together 
of  heaven  and  earth  !  At  the  same  instant  a  blinding, 
hot  glare  shut  out  all  sight.  Balder  was  hurled  back 
against  the  wall,  a  shock  like  the  touch  of  death  in 
every  nerve. 

He  staggered  up,  all  unstrung,  his  teeth  chattering. 
He  saw,  —  not  the  lamp,  nickering  in  the  draught  from 
the  broken  window,  —  not  Manetho,  lying  motionless 
with  the  smile  frozen  on  his  lips,  —  not  Salome,  pros 
trate  across  the  body  of  him  she  had  worshipped. 

He  saw  Gnulemah  —  his  wife  whom  he  loved  —  rise 
from  the  altar's  step  against  which  she  had  been 
thrown  ;  stand  with  outstretched  arms  and  blank,  wide- 
open  eyes  ;  grope  forwards  with  outstretched  arms  and 
uncertain  feet  ;  grope  blindly  this  way  and  that, 
moaning,  — 

"  Balder,  —  Balder,  —  where  are  you  ?  " 

Shivering  and  desperate,  —  not  yet  daring  for  his  life 


368  IDOLATRY. 

to  understand,  —  he  came  and  stood  before  her,  almost 
within  reach  of  those  groping  hands. 

"  I  am  here,  —  look  at  me,  Gnulemah  !  —  I  am  here, 
—  your  husband  !  " 

There  was  a  pause.  The  storm,  having  spent  itself 
in  that  last  burst,  was  rolling  heavily  away.  There  was 
silence  in  the  nuptial  chamber,  infringed  only  by  the 
breathing  of  the  newly  married  lovers. 

"  I  hear  you,  Balder,"  said  Gnulemah  at  length,  trem 
ulously,  while  her  blank  eyes  rested  on  his  face,  "  but  I 
cannot  see  you.  My  lamp  must  have  gone  out.  Will 
not  you  light  it  for  me  ? "  — 

Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the  Lord  :  I^will  repay  ! 
***** 

The  storm-cloud  moved  eastward  and  was  dispersed. 
Black  though  had  been  its  shadow,  it  endured  but  for 
a  moment ;  the  echo  of  its  fury  passed  away,  and  its 
deadly  thunderbolt  left  behind  a  purer  atmosphere. 
So  sweeps  and  rages  over  men's  heads  the  storm  of 
calamity;  and  so  dissolves,  though  seeming  for  the 
time  indissoluble. 

But  the  distant  planet  comes  forth  serene  from  its 
brief  eclipse,  and  as  night  deepens,  bears  its  steady  fire 
yet  more  aloft.  Like  God's  love,  its  radiance  embraces 
the  world,  yet  forgets  not  the  smallest  flower  nor  grain 
of  sand.  From  its  high  station  it  beholds  the  infinite 
day  surround  the  night,  and  knows  the  good  before  and 


THE   BLACK   CLOUD.  369 

beyond  the  ill.  Great  is  its  hope,  for  causes  are  not 
hidden  from  its  quiet  eternal  eye. 

No  journal  of  a  life  has  been  our  tale;  rather  a 
glimpse  of  a  beginning  !  "We  have  traversed  an  alpine 
pass  between  the  illimitable  lands  of  Past  and  Future. 
We  have  felt  the  rock  rugged  beneath  our  feet ;  have 
seen  the  avalanche  and  mused  beside  the  precipice, 
and  have  taken  what  relief  we  might  in  the  scanty 
greensward,  the  few  flowers,  and  the  brief  sunshine. 
Now,  standing  on  the  farewell  promontory,  let  us 
question  the  magic  mirror  concerning  the  further  road, 
—  as,  before,  of  that  from  the  backward  horizon  hither- 
wards. 

Mr.  MacGentle's  quiet  little  office:  himself — more 
venerable  by  a  year  than  when  we  saw  him  last  — 
in  his  chair :  opposite  him,  Dr.  Balder  Helwyse.  The 
latter  wears  a  thick  yellow  beard  about  six  inches  in 
length,  is  subdued  in  dress  and  manner,  and  his  smile, 
though  genial,  has  something  of  the  sadness  of  autumn 
sunshine.  The  two  have  been  conversing  earnestly, 
and  now  there  is  a  short  silence. 

((  We  must  give  up  hoping  it,  then,"  says  Mr.  Mac- 
Gentle  at  last,  in  a  more  than  usually  plaintive  mur 
mur.  "  It  is  hard,  —  very  hard,  dear  Balder." 

"  Now  that  I  know  there  is  no  hope,  I  can  acknowl 
edge  the  good  even  while  I  feel  the  hardship.  Her 
dreams  have  been  of  a  world  such  as  no  real  existence 

16*  x 


370  IDOLATRY. 

could  show ;  to  have  been  awakened  would  perma 
nently  have  saddened  her,  if  no  worse.  But  she  is 
great  enough  to  believe  without  seeing;  and  in  the 
deepest  sense,  her  belief  is  true.  She  still  remains  in 
that  ideal  fairy-land  in  which  I  found  her ;  and  no 
doubt,  as  time  goes  on,  her  visions  grow  more  beau 
tiful!" 

Thus  Balder  Helwyse,  in  tones  agreeably  vigorous, 
though  grave  and  low. 

«  yes  —  yes  ;  and  perhaps,  dear  Balder,  the  denial  of 
this  one  great  boon  may  save  her  from  much  indefinite 
disquiet ;  and  certainly,  as  you  say,  from  the  great 
danger  of  disappointment  and  its  consequences.  Yes, 
—  and  you  may  still  keep  her  lamp  alight,  with  a  more 
lasting  than  Promethean  fire  !  —  But  how  is  it  with 
you,  dear  boy  ?  " 

"  Let  none  who  love  me  pray  for  my  temporal  pros 
perity,"  returns  Helwyse,  turning  his  strong,  dark  gaze 
on  the  other's  aged  eyes.  "I  have  met  with  many 
worshippers  of  false  gods,  but  none  the  germs  of  whose 
sin  I  found  not  in  myself.  The  /  to  whom  was  con 
fided  this  excellent  instrument  of  faculties  and  senses 
is  a  poor,  weak,  selfish  creature,  who  fancied  his  gifts 
argued  the  possession  of  the  very  merits  whose  lack 
they  prove.  God,  in  His  infinite  mercy,  deals  sternly 
with  me  ;  and  I  know  how  to  thank  Him  ! "  — 

Mr.  MacGentle  does  not  reply  in  words ;  but  a  grave 


THE   BLACK   CLOUD.  371 

smile  glimmers   in   liis   faded   eyes,  and,  smiling,  he 
slowly  shakes  his  venerable  head. 

One  more  brief  glimpse,  and  then  we  are  done.  - 

A  pleasant  parlor  of  southern  aspect,  looking 
through  a  deep  bay-window  over  a  spacious  garden. 
Here  sits  a  stalwart  gentleman  of  middle  age,  with 
a  little  boy  and  girl  on  either  knee,  who  play  bo-peep 
with  his  wide-spreading  yellow  beard.  How  they  all 
laugh !  and  what  a  pleasant  laugh  has  the  stalwart, 
dark-eyed  gentleman,  —  so  deep-toned  and  yet  so  boy 
ish  !  But  presently  all  three  pause  to  take  breath. 

"Thor,"  then  says  the  gentleman,  "whose  portrait 
did  I  tell  you  that  was  ? "  And  he  points  to  an  oil- 
painting  hanging  over  the  piano. 

"  Grandpapa  MacGentle,  papa  !  " 

"  What  did  he  do  for  all  of  us  ? " 

As   Master    Thor    hesitates   a   moment,   the    little 
golden-haired  lady  breaks  in,  —  "  /  know,  papa  !     He 
made  uth  rich,  and  gave  uth  our  .houthe,  and  he  thaw 
me  when  I  wath  a   wee,  wee  baby,  and   then  lie - 
he  —  " 

"  He  went  to  Heaven,  papa ! "  says  Thor,  recovering 
himself. 

Hereupon  there  was  a  silence,  because  the  two 
children,  glancing  up  in  their  father's  face,  saw 
that  it  was  grave  and  'thoughtful. 

But   suddenly  the   little  girl   pricks  up  her   small 


372  IDOLATRY. 

ears,  and  scrambles  to  the  carpet,  and  sets  off  for  the 
door  at  full  speed,  without  a  word.  Th.or  is  close  be 
hind,  but  just  too  late  to  be  first  in  opening  the  door. 

"  Mamma  !  mamma  ! " 

And  Balder  Helwyse  springs  up,  and  as  she  enters 
with  the  rejoicing  children  at  each  hand,  he  meets  her 
with  the  thrilling  smile  which,  in  this  world,  she  will 
never  see  ! 


THE   END. 


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